

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 




I 














♦ 



























Our Little 

Czecho-Slovak Cousin 


THE 

Little Cousin Series 

(trade mark) 

Each volume illustrated with six or more full page plates in 
tint. Cloth, 12 mo, with decorative cover 
per volume, 90 cents 


LIST OF TITLES 

By Col. F. A. Postnikov, Isaac Taylor Head- 
land, Edward C. Butler, and Others 


Our Little African Cousin 
Our Little Alaskan Cousin 
Our Little Arabian Cousin 
Our Little Argentine Cousin 
Our Little Armenian Cousin 
Our Little Australian Cousin 
Our Little Austrian Cousin 
Our Little Belgian Cousin 
Our Little Bohemian Cousin 
Our Little Boer Cousin 
Our Little Brazilian Cousin 
Our Little Bulgarian Cousin 
Our Little Canadian Cousin 
of the Maritime Provinces 
Our Little Chinese Cousin 
Our Little Cossack Cousin 
Our Little Cuban Cousin 
Our Little Czecho-Slovac 
Cousin 

Our Little Danish Cousin 
Our Little Dutch Cousin 
Our Little Egyptian Cousin 
Our Little English Cousin 
Our Little Eskimo Cousin 
Our Little Finnish Cousin 
Our Little French Cousin 
Our Little German Cousin 
Our Little Grecian Cousin 
Our Little Hawaiian Cousin 


Our Little Hindu Cousin 
Our Little Hungarian Cousin 
Our Little Indian Cousin 
Our Little Irish Cousin 
Our Little Italian Cousin 
Our Little Japanese Cousin 
Our Little Jewish Cousin 
Our Little Korean Cousin 
Our Little Malayan (Brown) 
Cousin 

Our Little Mexican Cousin 
Our Little Norwegian Cousin 
Our Little Panama Cousin 
Our Little Persian Cousin 
Our Little Philippine Cousin 
Our Little Polish Cousin 
Our Little Porto Rican Cousin 
Our Little Portuguese Cousin 
Our Little Quebec Cousin 
Our Little Roumanian Cousin 
Our Little Russian Cousin 
Our Little Scotch Cousin 
Our Little Servian Cousin 
Our Little Siamese Cousin 
Our Little Spanish Cousin 
Our Little Swedish Cousin 
Our Little Swiss Cousin 
Our Little Turkish Cousin 


THE PAGE COMPANY 


53 Beacon Street 


Boston, Mass. 





THE NEXT DAY, RUZENA DROVE THE GEESE TO PASTURE 

(See page 41) 






H?r|r*fTrl? 


Our Little 

Czecho-Slovak Cousin 


By 

Clara Vostro vsky Winlow 

Author of 


“Our Little Roumanian Cousin,** “Our Little Bohemian 
Cousin,’* “Our Little Bulgarian Cousin,” 

“Our Little Servian Cousin,” “Our 
Little Finnish Cousin” 


Illustrated by 

Charles E. Meister 



Boston 

The Page Company 

MDCCCCXX 

•Jr •>!/• »Jr •Jr -Jr •J r •Jr »Jr »Jr -sf/» »Jr -Jr •Jr *Jr -V •Jr «<x 

ifb if6 ^ ij 


»• • ii i iJL 



Copyright , 1920 
By The Page Company 

All rights reserved 


First Impression, March, 1920 


AN 14 lb2U 


THE COLONIAL PRESS 
C. H. SIMONDS CO., BOSTON, U. S. A. 


©CI.A566490 


PREFACE 


The gallant exploits of the Czechoslovak 
army in Siberia won 'the attention and sym- 
pathy of the world to and for their hopes und 
sacrifices in the caus'e of freedom. Fighting 
the Germanic Powers was not a new thing to 
them. Bohemia, the chief of the Czecho- 
slovak states, has always been the battlefield 
between Slav and Teuton. All that of which 
Bohemia is proud to-day was won inch by inch 
through incessant struggle, through bringing to 
bear every force of civilization possible, on the 
German rulers. Bohemia’s leaders emphasized 
the need of education; and so effectually, that 
Bohemia, to-day, ranks as one of the most 
literate states of Europe. They emphasized 
idealism, that not by brute force but by being 
better fit should they eventually win. They 
v 


vi Preface 

kept alive their faith in a renewal of Bohemia’s 
wonderful, romantic history, that the people 
might not sink into despair from dwelling on 
what their proud spirits held to be the degra- 
dation of their position. They urged the de- 
velopment of economic strength, and Bohemia 
to-day is self-sustaining. Through ceaseless 
battling for their rights, through pride in their 
great accomplishment in the face of great ob- 
struction, the Czechs held their heads as high 
as the inhabitants of independent lands. It is 
an interesting fact that every poet, every musi- 
cian, every artist felt it his duty to devote his 
art to his native land. 

And here it might be well to state that the 
Czech of Bohemia, although often called 
Bohemian, has absolutely nothing in common 
with the Bohemian meaning gypsy. This term 
was once applied to some gypsies in France, 
through a misapprehension that they came from 
Bohemia. It clung even after the error was 


Preface vii 

corrected. These particular gypsies really 
came from Hungary, which however does not 
mean that Hungarians or Magyars and gypsies 
are one and the same. The gyspies, like the 
Jews, do not belong to any one country. 

Besides Bohemia, the Czecho-Slovak states 
comprise Moravia, a rich farming country, the 
birthplace of the great educator, John Amos 
Comenius; a part of Silesia, famous for its 
mines ; and Slovakia, also rich in mineral wealth 
which is largely undeveloped. Of these, 
Slovakia suffered perhaps the most under the 
scorn, oppression, and exploitation of the 
Magyar oligarchy. Taxes in all the states 
were high. Bohemia, especially, because of 
its wealth, not only paid for itself, but helped 
support unproductive Austrian German lands. 
The language in all of these states is so closely 
allied that the citizen of one can easily under- 
stand the citizens of any of the others. 

It is thought by some that Czecho-Slovakia 


viii Preface 

will be a small country. This is not exactly 
true, for it will rank eighth in size among all 
the European states. 

One thing that the Czecho-Slovaks have 
particularly shown during the War, and which 
argues well for their future, is their capacity 
for self-government. Not only did they show 
splendid organization in their efforts to secure 
recognition, but when the 'time came to pro- 
claim the Republic, it was found that their 
machinery was in perfect working order; and, 
although great reforms have been inaugurated, 
so far things have progressed wfth a smooth- 
ness not to be found in any of the other newly- 
formed states. 


C. V. w. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

Preface 



PAGE 

V 

I 

Land of Persecution 



i 

II 

Mushroom Gathering . 



9 

III 

A Slovak Folk Tale 



U 

IV 

The Voice of the Wood . 



30 

V 

Summer 



34 

VI 

Village Incidents .... 



40 

VII 

An Adventure 



50 

VIII 

A Visit to “ Matthew’s Land ” 



60 

IX 

Jozef Goes to School . 



66 

X 

School Days in Bohemia . 



74 

XI 

War 



85 

XII 

Uncle Jozef’s Story 



97 

XIII 

Uncle Jozef’s Story Continued 



104 

XIV 

The Czecho-Slovak Republic 



1 14 








List of Illustrations 

PAGE 

“ The next day, Ruzena drove the geese to pasture ” 

(See page 41) ..... Frontispiece 

“ ‘ Will a time never come when we shall be 

FREE?’” 5 

“The GIRLS HUDDLED TOGETHER, TOO MUCH FRIGHTENED 

to move” 57 

“ He USED TO WANDER ... TO THE FORTIFICATIONS ” . 74 

“THE VILLAGERS NEVER TIRED OF HEARING IT ” . . 92 

“ He . . . DROPPED HIS TREASURE AT RUZENA’S BEDSIDE ” 96 







Our Little Czecho-Slovak 
Cousin 


CHAPTER I 

LAND OF PERSECUTION 

There was mourning in the little village 
high up in the Tatras, as the Carpathian 
Mountains are called by the Slovaks. Nine 
men and women lay dead and four lay wounded 
behind carefully closed doors of the little 
homes. Scarcely a person except Magyar gen- 
darmes was to be seen on the one main street. 
Now and then the curious, frightened face of a 
child peeped out from behind the shaded win- 
dows, and again quickly disappeared. 

The day before, Magyar officers and priests 
had come to consecrate the little square church 


2 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

that had just been erected. It had cost the 
villagers many sacrifices, but they were proud 
of it. They had come dressed in their best 
and full of gayety to the services, never dream- 
ing but that their beloved Slovak pastor would 
be allowed to assist. When they found, how- 
ever, that he had been ignored, they pressed 
closely around those in charge and begged that 
he be allowed to take part, that they might feel 
that the church was actually their own. 

Did they beg too hard? Was it because 
they were loyal to a leader who loved and sym- 
pathized with his own people? Was that why 
Magyar guns suddenly boomed, and why the 
ground lay covered with blood? 

The news of the happening spread even to 
the little village in the more fertile plains, 
where Jozef lived. The twelve-year-old boy 
heard it discussed the very next day as he ac- 
companied the haymakers to the fields. In 
order to hear, he found it necessary to keep 


Land of Persecution 3 

close to the men and women, for they spoke 
only in half whispers, fearing spies sent out by 
the Notary, chief officer of the Commune, who 
seemed to count it among his duties to keep tab 
on their very thoughts. They knew that they 
could do nothing, and it gave them a cowed, 
dejected air. Never had a haying been so 
dismal. 

The killing, dangerous as the topic was, 
drew the men to the tavern at night. They 
sat at the plain deal tables in small groups and 
drank and smoked their long pipes. Now and 
then one had something to say. Perhaps it 
concerned the fate of some woman who had 
resisted the officers during the mad effort at 
Slovak denationalization in 1892, when forcible 
transportation of children to purely Magyar 
districts had been undertaken. Or it may 
have dealt with the imprisonment of some 
editor who had had the courage to denounce 
some new injustice or atrocity. 


4 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

A tall athletic-looking man with a broad 
smooth-shaven face, and hair worn rather long, 
seemed to be listened to with greatest attention. 
He was plainly from some other district, for 
his attire was different from that of his com- 
panions. It consisted of felt trousers, the 
seams piped with red, a linen shirt and a sheep- 
skin waistcoat with the wool inside, heavily 
embroidered on the leather side. His shoes 
were of soft leather, laced with rawhide thongs 
across the ankle, and he wore a low, black hat 
decorated with a red ribbon band. 

“ I was living in Turciansky Sv. Martin, our 
one national center, when the effort was made 
to establish a cellulose factory there,” he was 
saying. “ It was one of the many efforts on 
the part of Slovaks to be more prosperous and 
progressive. Like other citizens, I invested 
considerable money in it. The building was 
erected and the machinery installed and we 
were awaiting our license from the govern- 



U ( 


WILL A TIME NEVER COME WHEN WE SHALL BE FREE?’” 















Land of Persecution 5 

ment, when word came that it could not be 
given to the present management. We were 
dumbfounded, although we understood. We 
were not to be allowed to run our own factory 
because we did not help oppress our fellow citi- 
zens; because we were loyal to our Slovak 
traditions and to our Slovak land. 

“We did not give in without making an 
effort to secure justice. But, after several 
months, we knew that we were defeated. Dur- 
ing all this time we had not been allowed to do 
any work in the factory. One thing, finally, 
the authorities permitted, and that was to run 
the costly machinery once a week, so that it 
should not grow rusty. Of course we had to 
sell, and at a heavy loss to people eagerly await- 
ing to develop what we had started.” 

The peasants near nodded their appreciation 
of the conditions. One more excitable than 
his fellows jumped up. 

“ Will a time never come when we shall be 


6 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

free ? Will a time never come when the world 
recognizes the crime of using force to make 
people false to their own traditions?” he ex- 
claimed. “ To outsiders the Magyars boast 
of their liberal constitution, of the freedom 
granted to other nations in the kingdom. We 
who have no opportunities, who are not allowed 
a single higher school of our own, nor even a 
single Magyar Higher School where our 
language is taught, know what a lie this is. 
And what advantage is the Magyar language 
to our children outside of Hungary? Go even 
to Vienna or anywhere else in the monarchy, 
and try to make yourself understood with it! 
You’ll see! And we were here before the 
Magyars; we helped them to know the glorious 
religion of Jesus Christ; we fought and bled as 
well as they for our native land.” Here his 
voice changed curiously and a sort of exaltation 
lit up his face as he said softly: “We must 
have faith.” Then he began to repeat some 


Land of Persecution 


7 

lines taken from the great Slovak poet Kollar’s 
“ Slavy Dcera ” (The Daughter of Slava). 

“ Stop! It is holy ground on which you tread. 

Son of the Tatra, raise your head toward heaven, 

Or rather guide your steps towards that oak tree, 

Which yet defies destructive Time. 

But worse than Time is man who has placed his 
iron scepter on thy neck, O Slava. 

Worse than wild War, more fearful than 
Thunder, than Fire, 

Is the man who, blinded by hate, rages against 
his own race.” 

Then again: 

“ He who is worthy of liberty, respects the liberty 
of all. 

He who forges irons to enslave others, is himself 
a slave. 

Be it that he fetters the language or the hands of 
others, 

It is the same; he proves himself unable to re- 
spect the rights of others.” 

And once more : 

“ Slavia, Slavia! Thou name of sweet sound but 
of bitter memory; hundred times divided and 
destroyed, but yet more honored than ever. 

“ Much hast thou suffered, but ever hast thou 
survived the evil deeds of thy enemies, the evil 
ingratitude also of thy sons. 


8 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 


“ While others have built on soft ground, thou 
hast established thy throne on the ruins of many 
centuries.” 

Here in a rich bass voice he broke forth into 
the Slovak national song: “Nad Tatrou sa 
bliska”: 

Above Tatra the lightnings flash, 

The thunder wildly roars; 

But fear not, brothers, 

The skies will clear, 

And the Slovaks time will come. 

At the conclusion, a peculiar silence brooded 
in the room. Suddenly, little anxious twitch- 
ings might have been noticed. The singer 
turned. In the doorway stood the Notary with 
a wicked, sneering smile on his supercilious face. 


CHAPTER II 


MUSHROOM GATHERING 

Jozef’s home was one of the high-roofed 
houses whose gable ends faced the broad, 
whitish main street. It was made of unburnt 
bricks, plastered outside, with hand-made 
shingles on the roof. Each window was out- 
lined in pale green and the entrance porch was 
quite ornamental, having a pretty conventional 
design, also in green, painted around the door. 
This, as well as the lines around the window, 
was the work of Jozef’s mother, who enjoyed a 
certain reputation in the village because she 
had once been asked to paint some borders 
around the walls of the rooms of a girls’ school 
in the city of Brno, the capital of Moravia. 

Behind the house were the stalls for the 


9 


10 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

cattle and pigs, and, back of all, a small vege- 
table garden, edged with sweet smelling herbs 
and brightly colored flowers. This garden 
ended in an alley way by a brook, surrounded 
by green meadows in which geese usually 
pastured. 

In the center of the main street was the 
Church, a small whitewashed building with a 
square tower. Next to it were a cross and a 
statue of the village saint. 

Through the middle of the street were rows 
of underground cellars, one belonging to each 
family, in which it was possible to keep food 
and milk ice cold. Vehicles made their way on 
each side of these cellars. 

Around the village were meadows dotted 
with red poppies and blue corn flowers. Some 
distance further were fields of potatoes, a few 
vineyards, and a large, privately owned wood. 

It was Helena, Jozef’s cousin, who planned 
the day in the wood for a mushroom hunt, and 


Mushroom Gathering 1 1 

secured the necessary permission from the 
forester in charge. She invited Jozef, his 
ten-year-old sister Ruzena, and two of Ruzena’s 
girl friends to go with her. 

“ Goody! ” the little girls shouted, and ran 
for the permission which was readily granted 
on the one condition that they do not spend all 
the time in play but really bring home mush- 
rooms, which are highly valued as food. 

First each little girl took her herd of geese 
to the meadow by the brook, and left her flock 
in charge of an old woman who had nothing 
else to do but tend geese. Then they met 
Jozef, who had finished his chores of feeding 
the cattle and pigs, and Helena, who was older 
and helped her mother at home. All were 
dressed in old but bright colored clothes, and 
all were barefoot and bareheaded, the girls’ 
corn-colored hair hanging in long braids down 
their backs. All carried baskets in which now 
lay a little lunch. When they started, Jozef 


12 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

did not walk beside the others, but ran on ahead 
or lagged behind. He was afraid, since this 
was a girls’ party, that some of his boy friends 
might call him a “ sissy.” He wouldn’t have 
been left out, however, for the world. 

It was still early in the morning, but there 
was already a heavy warmth in the air, so that 
the coolness they found underneath the tall 
trees when they reached them, was very wel- 
come. The road had been dusty, but here the 
moss and grass were still wet with dew and gave 
forth a fragrant, pungent odor. 

The owner did not live in the wood, the only 
buildings in it being the picturesque log cabin 
of the forester or caretaker, and a beautiful 
hunting lodge. 

Soon the fun began. 

“ Hurrah! ” shouted Jozef, discovering two 
mushrooms, or champignons, showing a brown 
and a red head above the moss. 

Such a scampering as there was among the 


Mushroom Gathering 13 

trees until every basket was filled to overflow- 
ing. 

Here Etelka, the youngest of the party, 
found one that she thought the prize of all. It 
was red with white raised spots. 

“ Come here ! ” she cried. “ I have found a 
new kind. Shall I taste it? ” 

Helena took two rapid leaps toward her. 

“Drop it! Drop it!” she exclaimed. 
“ That’s a poison muchomurka. Never, never 
taste anything of which you are not certain if 
you don’t wish to die.” 

“ I thought it prettier than the red ones you 
found,” said Etelka, somewhat abashed. 

“ It is entirely different,” and then Helena 
showed her how it differed and again impressed 
on all to confine themselves to those they knew. 

Then the baskets were put down in a circle 
and the children played hide-and-seek among 
brown trunked firs with long gray mosses 
festooned from branch to branch, knotted larch 


14 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

trees, and pines dripping with balsam. At 
last, tired, they sank down on some netted roots 
and ate their lunch of thick slices of rye bread 
spread with goose fat. 

“ I found some sweet-root here once,” Jozef 
volunteered when they had eaten every morsel. 

“ Where? ” the girls asked eagerly. 

Jozef had very vague notions as to where. 

“ Let’s agree,” suggested Helena, “ each to 
give a nice mushroom to the one who finds 
some sweet-root first.” 

All were willing, and with shouting, laughter 
and song the search began. Several times 
Jozef was quite certain that the prize was his, 
but it was little Etelka who actually found 
some underneath some blackberry leaves. 

“ I’m going exploring,” Jozef now an- 
nounced, somewhat nettled that a girl should 
have been the discoverer. Leaving the path- 
ways, he made his way down a long incline. 
Not wishing to have the party separated, 


Mushroom Gathering 15 

Helena led the others as best she could after 
him. 

It was a merry chase Jozef gave them, now 
to the right, now to the left, then back in a 
crazy circle. So intent were they in making 
their way through some underbrush that they 
were unprepared when, at a sudden turn, they 
found themselves on the brink of the river that 
they knew flowed through an edge of the wood. 

Out of breath, they seated themselves in a 
row on the bank and watched the waters glide 
past. Then they threw in twigs, which they 
called boats, and grew quite excited when some 
of these became entangled in water washed 
grasses. 

“ Oh, Helena,” at last Etelka begged, as she 
nibbled at her portion of the sweet-root, 
“ please tell us a story.” 

“ A really truly Slovak fairy story,” 
seconded Ruzena. 

“ Have it exciting,” demanded Jozef. 


16 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

“ And true,” put in quiet, blue-eyed 
Marouska. 

Helena laughed. “ Very well,” she said, 
“ it’ll be truly Slovak, and exciting, and as true 
as any fairy tale can be.” 


CHAPTER III 


A SLOVAK FOLK TALE 

There was once an old king who, knowing 
that his end was nearing, called his son to him 
and begged him to take a wife. 

“ I would fain see you settled before I die,” 
he said. 

The son knew not what to do, for of all the 
maidens in his father’s court there was none 
that had especial charm for him. He was 
thinking this over in the castle garden when an 
old woman suddenly stood before him. 
Wherever she came from, she was certainly 
there. 

“ Pluck the three lemons on the glass 
mountain and you will gain a wife such as next 
to none possesses,” she said. As she appeared, 


1 7 


18 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

so she disappeared. Her words, however, 
sank into the youth’s heart, and leaving good-by 
for his father, he set out at once to find the glass 
mountain and the magic lemons. 

Far over wooded hill and dale he journeyed 
but saw nothing even resembling a glass 
mountain. At last, tired out, he threw himself 
under a tree. As he did so, some ravens, 
croaking loudly, flew out of its top branches. 

“ Ah,” thought the Prince, “ these may 
direct me to where at least refreshment and 
rest may be obtained.” And starting again, he 
followed in the direction that they had flown. 

After three days and three nights he saw a 
castle before him, and full of rejoicing, ap- 
proached it. It was entirely of lead and in the 
door stood Jezibaba leaning on a leaden staff. 

“ Haste from here, good youth,” she said, 
“ for nothing grows here, and when my son 
comes home he will devour you.” 

“ Nay, old woman,” said the Prince, “ that 


A Slovak Folk Tale 19 

must not be, for I come with respect for his 
power and knowledge, to seek his advice as to 
how I am to reach the glass mountain on which 
grows a wonderful lemon tree.” 

“ Then I will help you,” said Jezibaba, and 
hid the Prince behind a big broom. As she 
did so the castle shook, and peeping, the young 
man saw an awful being come up brandishing a 
leaden club. 

“ Yo, ho!” growled the ogre. “I smell 
human flesh on which to feast.” 

“ Nay, my son,” cajoled Jezibaba, “ a youth 
is here, in truth, but only because he values your 
advice.” 

“ In that case,” responded the giant, “ let 
him appear and I shall not hurt him.” 

The Prince came out, trembling, for he 
reached only to the giant’s knees; but being 
brave of heart he courteously asked his 
question. 

“Ah, ah!” returned the giant, looking 


20 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

around as if searching for him. “ I don’t 
know where it is, but if you go to my brother 
in the silver castle, he may direct you. Here, 
mother, give him some dumplings to last him 
on his journey.” 

The Prince bit into a dumpling placed before 
him and two of his teeth cracked, for the giant’s 
food was of pure lead. 

“ I shall eat them later,” he said, and placing 
three of them in his pockets, he thanked his 
hosts and bade them good-by. 

Again over hill and dale he traveled, until 
wearied he sank as before under a thickly 
branched tree. From the top of this tree 
twelve ravens flew, and, remembering his 
former good fortune, he followed in the direc- 
tion of their flight. 

For three days and three nights he had 
journeyed when he saw before him a castle 
whose walls glistened in the sun. It was of the 
finest silver and at the gateway stood Jezibaba, 


A Slovak Folk Tale 


21 


leaning on a silver staff. He greeted her, say- 
ing, “ I come from the leaden castle and bear a 
message for the owner here.” 

“ In that case you are welcome, but that 
harm may not come to you before my son 
knows, let me hide you.” 

Soon after an ogre, more terrible than the 
first, appeared brandishing a silver club. And 
as he appeared the castle and ground were 
shaken. 

“ Yo-ho! ” said the giant, “ I smell human 
flesh for my meal to-day.” 

“ Not so,” spoke Jezibaba. “ A youth is 
here, in truth, but not to be harmed. He 
bears a message to you from your brother of 
the leaden castle.” 

So the Prince was invited to come out of his 
hiding-place, Which he did trembling, he seemed 
so insignificant beside the ogre. He showed 
the leaden dumplings in token that he spoke 
the truth and the ogre’s face grew quite mild. 


22 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

“ I can’t tell you where the glass mountain 
is,” he answered to the query, “ but my brother 
of the Golden Castle will surely know. Take 
him my greeting. Before you go, sit down 
with us to our dinner.” 

But the dinner consisted of silver dumplings, 
and excusing himself, the Prince placed three in 
his pocket and went on his way. 

Over wooded hill, through valleys he 
journeyed, until weariness overcame him and he 
sank down under a tree. Twelve ravens flew 
from its top as he did so. The sight of them 
revived his strength and he followed in the 
direction they had taken. 

After three days and three nights, before 
him shone a castle of gold so bright as to rival 
the sun’s rays. Here Jezibaba, leaning on a 
golden staff, received him, and here he saw her 
son the ogre. 

“ If my brother of the silver castle has not 
harmed you, neither shall I harm you. What 


A Slovak Folk Tale 23 

do you wish of me? Ah, the glass mountain! 
I know it well. Travel straight to the north 
and you will come to it. On its top you’ll find 
the lemon tree with fruit so fragrant that it 
scents the air for miles around. If this fruit is 
meant for you, it’ll drop into your hands of its 
own accord. If you need food or drink on your 
homeward trip, cut open a lemon and all of 
your needs will be satisfied. Now come and 
eat with us before you leave.” 

But the meal was all of dumplings of gold 
and, when the Prince saw them, he urged his 
haste and would only accept some for his 
journey. 

He traveled straight to the north, and, after 
three days and three nights, he came to a barren 
spot in the center of which stood a hill of glass 
and on it a tree with lemons whose fragrance 
reached him long before he was near. 

He tried to climb the slippery surface, but 
with every step he slid back a step. 


24 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

Possibly were he lighter, he thought, he 
might finally succeed. So taking out a leaden 
dumpling he threw it away. To his delight, it 
stuck in the glass, making a step. He threw 
out another higher up and then the third, up to 
which he climbed. The silver dumplings fol- 
lowed, and then the gold, and, with their aid, 
he reached the mountain’s top. 

Sinking down on his knees under the lemon 
tree, he held out his hands and the lemons 
dropped into them one by one. As the last 
fell, the tree and glass mountain vanished, and 
how it happened he could not say, but he found 
himself well started toward home. 

He had still a long distance to go, and 
hunger and thirst overcame him. Remember- 
ing the gold ogre’s words, he took a lemon 
from his pocket and cut it open. 

As he did so, a maiden so beautiful his eyes 
were dazzled, leaped out and making a courtesy 
inquired: 


A Slovak Folk Tale 


25 

“ Have you food for me? Have you drink 
for me? Have you fine dresses for me to 
wear? ” 

“ Alas,” answered the Prince sadly, “ I have 
none of these.” 

The maiden courtesied again and instantly 
vanished. 

“ Ah, I know now what manner of fruit this 
is ! ” thought the Prince. 

He could not bring the maiden back, so he 
sipped the lemon and found it satisfied his 
hunger and thirst marvelously. He was able 
to walk a long way now, which was good, for 
he saw neither food nor drink that day. But 
toward evening of the next day his throat felt 
so dry and his stomach so empty that he re- 
luctantly cut open the second lemon. 

A maiden more dazzlingly beautiful than the 
first jumped out of it, and, making a courtesy, 
inquired as the first had done : 

“ Have you food for me ? Have you drink 


26 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 
for me? Have you fine clothes for me to 
wear? ” 

“ Alas,” the youth sadly answered, “ I have 
none of these.” 

The maiden courtesied and vanished as com- 
pletely as the other had done. 

He satisfied his hunger and thirst, but re- 
solved that come what might, even though he 
had to crawl home for weakness, he would not 
cut the third lemon until he reached there. 

Nor did he, for his strength lasted him until 
next day when he saw the walls of his city be- 
fore him. Already outside he was recognized; 
the news spread, and the aged king sent out an 
escort to meet him and conduct him into his 
presence. 

When the two had embraced, the Prince told 
his wondrous story. A banquet was prepared 
for the following day, to which many guests 
were invited. Costly raiment, too, was made, 
and brought into the palace walls. 


A Slovak Folk Tale 


27 

When the guests had assembled conscious 
that some surprise was in store for them, the 
Prince cut the third and last lemon. A maiden 
of beauty so great that it surpassed the dazzling 
beauty of both of the others, leaped lightly out 
of it and, courtesying to the Prince, inquired : 
“ Have you food for me? Have you drink 
for me? Have you fine clothing for me to 
wear? ” 

“ I have all of these,” said the Prince 
happily, presenting her with the costly gowns. 

She put on the most elegant of these, and, so 
much did it still further enhance her beauty, 
that the Prince could not take his eyes from her 
as he led her into the Banquet Hall. 

“ Will you marry me ? ” he whispered. And 
when she smilingly nodded consent, he an- 
nounced the betrothal amid congratulations 
and cheering. Shortly after the wedding feast 
followed. 

The young people were very happy until the 


28 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

old king died and the Prince, having taken his 
place, had to lead an army to War. Before 
they parted, that harm might not come to his 
Queen, a platform for her was erected high in 
the air. No one could get on it unless the 
Queen let down a silken cord. 

Now, an ambitious gypsy maid begged the 
Queen so hard to let her come up to comb and 
braid her hair, that the Queen consented. The 
gypsy talked and flattered as she combed, until 
the Queen fell asleep, and then the girl killed 
her by plunging a sharp pin into her head. 

As the pin sank in, a snow-white dove flew 
out. Nothing remained of the Queen except 
her beautiful clothes, which the gypsy donned 
and sat down on the throne. 

When the King returned, he thought his wife 
terribly changed and would have nothing to do 
with her. He mourned incessantly for what 
she once had been. 

One day, as he walked sorrowing in the gar- 


A Slovak Folk Tale 29 

den, a snow-white dove lit on his hand. He 
stroked its pretty feathers and as he did so, felt 
a pin head on the top of its head. 

“What is this I ” he exclaimed, and drew it 
forth. 

No sooner had he done so, than his wife of 
old stood before him just as he had first seen 
her in her wondrous charm and beauty. She 
told him all that had occurred. The wicked 
gypsy was put to death and nothing further ever 
came to mar the happiness of the heaven 
married pair. 


CHAPTER IV 


THE VOICE OF THE WOOD 

It was getting dusky in the woods when the 
little party started reluctantly for home. The 
birds were already chattering their good nights 
before preparing for sleep and a belated 
squirrel or two looked inquisitively down at 
them. 

Now and then one of the children found 
berries that tempted even Helena to linger. 

“ I did not know there were so many yet,” 
she remarked. “ I must ask father to beg the 
forester to let me come soon again for them 
alone. Of course I shall take you all.” 

As the trees grew a little more scattered, 
Ruzena, who had been walking lost in thought, 
now raised her head. 


30 


The Voice of the Wood 31 

“ Old Susanna,” she said, “ told me once that 
the trees talk, but I don’t believe it.” 

“ It’s not the trees,” said Jozef quickly, “ but 
the spirit of the woods who answers when you 
call to him.” 

Putting his hand to his mouth, he shouted: 
“ O-ho ! O-ho ! ” And from somewhere 
came the answer “ O-ho ! O-ho ! ” 

All the Children looked back. 

“ Let me try,” said Helena, smiling. Then 
she shouted: “ Dobrou nod Dobrou noc! 
Good night ! Good night ! ” 

“ Dobrou nod Good night ! ” came back as 
before. 

“ It’s a mocking spirit,” said Marouska, 
walking as close to Helena as she could. 

“ It’s only the Echo Spirit,” returned Helena, 
laughing. 

“ Ha! Ha ! Ha ! ” was returned from the 
woods so clearly that Marouska seized Helena 
by the hand. 


32 Qur Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

They had reached the edge of the forest. 
It was still day outside and Marouska soon 
forgot that she had almost been really afraid. 

She remembered it, however, the next day 
when a heavy summer shower came with light- 
ning and thunder. 

“ I wonder what the spirit does when it 
rains,” she said to herself. 

She thought of the birds and squirrels that 
she had seen. Would the storm hurt them? 
She asked her father when he came home after 
it was all over. He smiled and said : 

“ I have to see Zerzan, the forester, about 
something. You can go with me to see if any 
birds are left.” 

How beautiful the wood looked when they 
reached it! Every leaf sparkled, while the 
birds sang far more than on the day before, 
Marouska thought. 

“ You see,” said her father, “ that all nature 
sometimes likes a bath.” 


The Voice of the Wood 33 

“ And the spirit of the wood, did he also 
like it?” inquired Marouska with some 
timidity. Then she told her father about the 
voice that had answered their call. 

“ That’s the Echo,” said her father, and 
whether it was because he could not explain it, 
or whether it was because the forester just then 
met them, he made no further explanations. 
Thus it came about that Marouska kept her 
bewildered first impressions for many a day 
after. 


CHAPTER V 


SUMMER 

“We’re off! Good-by!” cheerily called 
out four sturdy, red-cheeked girls, early one 
morning. They were walking in pairs, with 
bundles in their hands and their shoes slung 
over their backs. They belonged to some of 
the poor families of the village, and intended 
tramping it to the richer plains to work on two 
of the farms there, where their help would be 
very welcome and well paid. Each had taken 
food for the journey; rye bread, bacon, and a 
cheese called brindza, made from sheeps’ milk 
by Slovaks in the mountains. 

Everybody waved to the girls or had a 
pleasant word for them as they passed by. 
When the last house had been reached, their 
voices rang out sweetly in song. 


34 


Summer 


35 


In vain is not thy toil, 

In vain is not thy faith; 

The Lord God in the Heavens 
Gathers all of labor’s sweat. 

And again: 

Songs, songs, whence come ye? 

Descended from the heavens 
Or grown in the woods? 

Not down from the heavens 
Nor grown in the woods, 

But born in the hearts 
Of maidens and youths. 

Then the more melancholy strain: 

My lips are singing, 

My eyes are smiling, 

But tears stream from my heart. 

Ruzena half envied them as she listened. 
Everybody at her house, except her baby 
brother and herself, had left for the hay- 
field to help with the mowing. She had 
not yet taken the geese to pasture, and as she 
started off, brother tried to toddle after 
her. 


36 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

“ Come, you may go with me to-day,” she 
said good-naturedly, lifting him up in her 
strong arms and carrying him to the alleyway. 
But it is not easy herding geese that try to 
stray and carrying a heavy baby at the same 
time. Although the distance was not great, 
Ruzena found that it was more than she could 
do. 

“ I must leave you here,” she said, panting, 
and put baby down by the roadside. “ Now be 
good and play and sister will hurry back.” 

Juraj was always good, and although he 
looked a little wistful, made no complaint. 
Perhaps he was used to being left in that 
fashion. He had nothing on his little body 
except a short shirt; but on his head, according 
to custom, he had a most elaborately embroid- 
ered cap or rather hood. He sat patiently 
still for a while; then a big black beetle made 
him struggle to his feet. He reached forward 
to get it, turned a summersault, and by the 


Summer 


37 

time he had straightened himself up, the beetle 
had disappeared in the grass. 

Juraj looked around for it and then catching 
sight of the brook near by, half walked, half 
crawled to it. There were all sorts of things 
to interest him here, and, without a moment’s 
hesitation, he walked right into the middle and 
sat down with something of a thump on the 
stony bottom. Even then he did not cry, but 
tried to reach the funny little water insects that 
scurried so fast everywhere about him. 

“Juraj, Juraj, why, you’re all wet!” ex- 
claimed Ruzena, snatching him up when she re- 
turned. Then Juraj for the first time cried, 
just a plaintive little cry that seemed to 
ask why he must give up so innocent a pleas- 
ure. 

He was tight asleep in his own little cradle, 
that had served two generations of children, 
when Ruzena heated some food that her 
mother had prepared, put it into a pail, filled a 


38 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

jug with fresh water, and started with these for 
the hay-field. 

Some of the mowers were still being followed 
by barefoot women and girls in bright-colored 
skirts, who tossed the hay over their heads and 
shoulders. Others were already sitting and 
lunching in the shade of the lumbrous wagons. 
Large cream-colored oxen, with very long 
horns, stood unyoked near by. 

Ruzena’s mother returned home with her 
daughter, for neighbors had come over to help, 
and although she had baked all the day before, 
she felt anxious lest something should be lack- 
ing on the supper table. 

It was just getting dusk when the sound of 
singing, not boisterous, but low and sweet, came 
from the road and announced the hay-makers. 
With their heads crowned with grain, they 
walked beside or stood in the clumsy wagons 
drawn by sleepy-looking oxen with poppies and 
corn flowers wound around their horns. 


Summer 


39 

How good the things did taste after the hard 
work ! Ruzena helped her mother wait on the 
guests, and as a treat, was allowed to go with 
them to the tavern where they danced their own 
national dances until the church bell rang out 
midnight. 


CHAPTER VI 


VILLAGE INCIDENTS 

“ R-r-r-rub-rub-rub ! ” went the little drum 
beaten by the bailiff as he stalked through the 
village. Every one hurried to door or window 
to learn what the news might be. It would 
not have created much stir in a city, but it did 
create quite a stir in the double row of houses. 

“ Beran’s cow, in your very next village,” 
announced the bailiff, “ stepped into a hole 
and broke her leg at noon to-day, so that she 
had to be killed. If you want fresh meat, 
here’s your chance.” 

When the bailiff had gone from end to end 
of the street and back again shouting the news, 
he was surrounded by people anxious to know 
the particulars: just where the accident had 


40 


Village Incidents 41 

occurred; how the cow happened to step into 
the hole; who first found it out; who killed her; 
and many other things. 

Almost every one wanted some of the meat, 
and several of the men set out that very even- 
ing to secure a share. 

The next day Ruzena drove the geese to 
pasture in the hay stubble where they were 
always taken that no grain might be wasted, 
when the hay was already in the barn waiting 
to be threshed. When she returned, she found 
that a wandering tinker with mousetraps, rolls 
of wire and mending material slung over his 
back, was making his yearly visit. 

The tinker’s native place, like that of many 
another Slovak tinker, was Kysuca, near the 
Silesian border. It was not from there, how- 
ever, that he had just come, but from Nytra, 
a place of twelve thousand inhabitants, once the 
capital of the great Moravian Kingdom under 
Svatopluk, of which Slovakia was an important 


42 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

part. There was scarcely a door at which he 
did not stop, not merely to do some tinkering 
but to deliver messages from distant friends or 
relatives, or to relate what was going on in the 
greater world. He had been as far as Bohemia 
in his year’s travels, and had much to say of 
that prosperous and progressive country. His 
opinions, though sometimes crude, were listened 
to with respect. 

“ When I first started making my rounds 
twenty years ago,” he said, “ I used to stop for 
a day or two with my wife’s cousin in Praha 
(Prague). Then the Germans had succeeded 
in getting all the business into their hands; but 
now the Czechs have got it all back again. 
The banks, too, are almost all Czech. There 
is hardly a German sign to be seen anywhere. 
Every street has its own Czech name, but how 
the Czechs had to fight for this, and how sore 
the Germans are over it! The Czech believes 
in fighting for the right, he believes in educating 


Village Incidents 43 

his children, he is willing to make any sacrifice 
that will make Bohemia his own again. We’re 
a different people ; we are too ignorant to know 
how to go about things, and when we do know 
we’re so mild we don’t do it.” 

“ Much good fighting would do us ! ” re- 
marked Stefan the blacksmith. The other men 
laughed. “ Come and show us how,” they 
said. 

“ I don’t mean fist fighting,” the tinker re- 
turned half angrily. “ I mean fighting with 
brains. Why can’t we — ” 

“ That’s all right,” interrupted a young man, 
his face all aflame, as he stepped into the ring. 
“ But what chance have we to develop our 
brains when we haven’t a single Higher School 
where the Slovak language is taught? When 
every opportunity is cut off from one if he some- 
how manages to educate himself, unless he turns 
traitor to -his mother tongue and swears that 
he is a Magyar? Don’t I know? Didn’t I 


44 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

hope to work myself up into a position where I 
could serve my nation? And you know my 
record. Imprisonment and imprisonment and 
imprisonment. The Czechs are helping them- 
selves, but no progress will come for us until 
the world at large will awaken to its duty of 
preventing tyranny and exploitation.” 

“True!” muttered many of the men; and 
then slipped away one by one as some one 
pointed out the Notary approaching in the 
distance. 

An old woman now engrossed the tinker’s 
attention. She was quite a ch-aracter in the 
village and some of the people would have 
agreed that she was t*he chief character. No 
one called her by her name. She was 
“ Aunty ” to everybody for miles around. In 
sickness and death, in birth and rejoicings, her 
advice was sought, even sometimes before that 
of the village priest. She generally carried a 
basket of herbs on her arm, for she was always 


Village Incidents 45 

hunting for some or ready to distribute some to 
others. She knew their virtues as no one else 
did. 

Ruzena chose that moment to bring out an 
earthen pot to be wired. She hoped the tinker 
would be so busy talking to “ Aunty ” that he 
would forget to indulge in his favorite pastime 
of teasing. 

But no sooner did she come up than he looked 
at her seriously to ask: “Have you caught 
any birds this year by sprinkling something on 
their tails?” And when Ruzena smilingly 
shook her head and said shyly, “ None,” he 
wanted to know where a dog goes when he 
follows his nose. 

When at last he handed back her pot so skill- 
fully mended that it was, as he claimed, as good 
as new, he said more seriously than before : 

“ His lordship in the next village has com- 
manded me to bring him a new kind of strap, 
and I think that one of your braids of hair will 


46 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

be just the thing for it. Stand still just a 
moment while I find my shears.” 

But instead of standing Ruzena was running 
home, half afraid that the funny tinker might 
really cut off the hair. And as she ran she 
heard him sing the first part of a folk song that 
he had just learned from some peasants in the 
neighboring brother land of Moravia : 

“ M — m, m — m, two mosquitoes married today ; 

M — m, m — m, not a drop of wine have they.” 

“ Does the tinker go all over the world? ” 
Ruzena asked her mother, humming the tune 
that her quick ear had caught. 

“ M-mm, yes,” her mother answered rather 
absent-mindedly. She was busy preparing the 
supper which the tinker was to eat with them. 

“ He does his wiring well,” she said as she 
put down the pot he had fixed. “ He’s some- 
what rattle-brained, I think sometimes, but he 
learns a lot more going around than if he stayed 
here. He hasn’t come from any distant 


Village Incidents 47 

country to us. Only from Nytra. You might 
ask him about that place. If we don’t get him 
started on something else he will bring up the 
Czechs again and what they’re doing and what 
we’re not. Since we can’t do anything, it’s no 
use repeating all that.” 

Ruzena remembered when all were seated at 
the table, and asked the tinker if he would tell 
them something about Nytra. 

“ I learned in school,” she concluded 
proudly, “ that it was the capital of the great 
Moravian Kingdom.” 

The tinker looked pleased. “ Yes, under 
Svatopluk,” he said. “ Then we had nothing 
of which to be ashamed. But do you know 
anything about that Svatopluk? ” 

Ruzena shook her head. 

“ Never mind,” said the tinker kindly. 
“ There’s some grown people in this village that 
don’t know any more. Do you know?” and 
he turned to Jozef. 


48 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

Jozef hurried to swallow the food in his 
mouth. 

“ I know the kingdom all went to smash after 
he died,” he shouted more loudly than he in- 
tended. 

His father and mother exchanged pleased 
looks. 

“Do you know why?” asked the tinker. 
“ You don’t? Well, I’ll tell you as I heard a 
priest tell it to some boys. 

“ When Svat-opluk knew he must die, he 
called his three sons to him. He selected the 
eldest to rule after him. The two younger to 
whom he left large estates, he bade be loyal to 
their brother. 

“ At his orders, a servant brought in three 
stout twigs fastened tightly together. ‘ Break 
this,’ he said, handing the twigs to his oldest 
son. But the Prince found it impossible. 
Then he handed it to the second son and then 
to the third, but the twigs remained unbroken. 


Village Incidents 49 

“ 4 Cut the cord,’ he ordered the servant. 

44 This was done and Svatopluk handed a 
twig apiece to each of the princes. 

44 4 Now break it,’ he commanded. This 
each one easily did. 

4 4 4 Here you see,’ he said, 4 that when three 
stick closely together nothing can injure them, 
but when they fall apart it is easy to destroy 
them entirely. So will it be with you. Re- 
main united, working in harmony and forgiving 
one another, and your enemies will find it im- 
possible to overcome you. But live divided, 
and you will not only fight among yourselves 
but your neighbors will master each of you.’ 

44 Alas, what he foretold would come with 
dissensions, did come. 'Foolish, selfish ambi- 
tion destroyed the foundations of this mighty 
kingdom which included Moravia, Slovakia, 
Poland, Silesia, northern Bohemia, and a large 
part of northern Germany.” 


CHAPTER VII 


AN ADVENTURE 

It was Saturday and Ruzena had just re- 
turned to the village from some distance out- 
side of it. She brought back some of the red 
sand that was prized highly for sprinkling over 
the hard earthen floors of the house. She 
spread it carefully and then went into the 
kitchen to help her mother with the baking for 
the morrow. 

Sunday was a blessed day in more ways than 
one for the villagers. No matter how hard the 
work of the week had been, the Sabbath 
afforded relaxation. Everybody who could 
went to church, and exceedingly attractive did 
they look when they trooped out in twos and 
threes after the service. The women especially 
50 


An Adventure 51 

looked like a bevy of bright flowers in their gay 
attire. 

There is no one national costume in Slovakia. 
It varies from district to district. Here the 
women wore a snowy chemise with short puffed 
sleeves ending in a wide ruffle. Above this 
ruffle was a pretty band of hand embroidery in 
orange-colored silk. Over this chemise was a 
bodice. The heavily starched skirt was full 
of tiny carefully arranged pleats with another 
skirt of transparent flowery material, also 
pleated, worn over, each pleat in this upper 
skirt being fitted into that of the skirt beneath. 

The men were quite as picturesque in high 
boots, and close-fitting trousers of black cloth 
embroidered in black and yellow. Over the 
shirt, a short sleeveless waistcoat was worn, 
fastened with one button. The two rooster 
feathers at the back of the men’s hats gave 
them something of a dashing air. 

The young men and boys always took their 


52 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

seats near the door. The older men sat at the 
right of the aisle, the older women at the left. 
The finery of the young married women and of 
the girls did not allow them to be seated. The 
former stood in the aisle, the latter in rows 
near the altar. When they knelt down their 
skirts stood out so far on every side that no 
one could come near. 

In the afternoon the young people paired for 
a dance at the pavilion in the tavern grounds; 
the children wandered off for play, while the 
older folks visited at one another’s houses or 
met in the tavern to talk over the little happen- 
ings of the week. 

Wherever Ruzena was, Etelka and Mar- 
ouska were also apt to be. On this particular 
Sunday the three had an adventure that gave 
them all, but especially Etelka, who was the 
most imaginative, quite a little thrill. 

It was all because Jozef and one of his 
friends, Janik, had insisted on following the 


An Adventure 


53 

little girls about, twitching their long hair and 
playing all sorts of tricks on them. When 
something called the boys away for awhile, 
Ruzena exclaimed: 

“ I wish we could hide from them ! ” 

“ I’ll tell you a good place,” suggested 
Etelka; “ let’s go into our storeroom. Father 
put a lantern down there and we can light it 
and wait until the boys give us up.” 

Marouska and Ruzena thought this just the 
thing, and away the three hurried to the under- 
ground cellars. Every one was busy with his 
own affairs, so no attention was paid to them, 
and they climbed down the ladder into the dug- 
out belonging to Etelka’s parents, without be- 
ing seen. Etelka lit the lantern and then 
propped up the door slightly as she had seen 
her mother do. The girls stood waiting and 
listening. 

At last they heard boys’ voices. “ It’s Jozef 
and Janik,” whispered Ruzena. Whether it 


54 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

was or not, the voices grew fainter and soon 
could not be heard. 

“ They’ve passed, but if we go out they’ll 
find us,” said Marouska in her quiet, sad little 
voice. 

Her two friends agreed. “ But,” asked 
Ruzena, “ what can we do here? ” 

Etelka’s eyes sparkled. A bold plan had 
occurred to her. 

“ Let’s explore the secret passages,” she ex- 
claimed. 

“ Let’s ! ” echoed her companions delightedly 
yet fearfully. 

“ We won’t go far,” continued Etelka, know- 
ing that such explorations were considered 
dangerous and forbidden. “ Just a little 
ways.” 

“ Just a little ways ! ” Ruzena and Marouska 
again echoed breathlessly. 

These so-called secret passages were very old 
and no one seemed to know for certain why they 


An Adventure 


ss 

had been built. The story generally accepted 
was that they belonged to the time immediately 
following the Hussite Wars, when many 
Czechs were forced to emigrate to Slovakia. 
While they were allowed to come, meetings to 
study the Bible had to be held in secret. These 
passages, connected with several of the cellars, 
made such meetings possible. Although the 
Slovaks in the village were now Catholics, they 
had not forgotten stories of martyrdom and 
courage handed down from those times. They 
told how a pastor had traveled from village to 
village hidden in a load of hay; of how a Bible 
was once saved by being thrown down into a 
well, and many other tales. 

Taking the lantern, Etelka led the way into 
a little opening. It did not go far, for the 
earth had fallen down from the side walls, par- 
tially blocking it. 

The girls looked at one another. 

“ I know what we can do,” suggested 


56 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

Ruzena. “ I saw an old board in the cellar. 
We can dig some of the earth away with 
that,” and she ran to get it. She also brought 
back a big wooden ladle, and with these unusual 
implements, Marouska and Ruzena dug, while 
Etelka held the lantern, until the obstruction 
could be passed. There was comparative free- 
dom after that for quite a distance. At one 
point the passage divided into three parts. 
The girls chose to go into the broadest, but 
scarcely had they gone twenty steps when the 
light in the lantern went suddenly out. 

“ Oh, dear, now we’re in for it,” burst from 
Ruzena, as she felt Marouska catch tight hold 
of her sleeve. 

“ Let’s keep hold of one another and go 
back,” suggested Etelka, her voice trembling 
slightly. 

It was not easy, for they had to feel their 
way along the wall. They became conscious, 
too, that the air was bad. Once quite a bit of 



“the girls huddled together, too much frightened 

TO MOVE ” 




An Adventure 


57 

earth fell down before them, but, fortunately, 
not enough to hurt or stop them. It seemed 
to them that they had been walking very, very 
long, when Ruzena broke the silence that had 
fallen, by volunteering: 

“ We must have come to where the passage 
divides.” 

“Yes, and I wonder — ” Etelka did not 
finish, for Marouska clutched her wildly by the 
arm. 

“ Oh, look back,” she whispered fearfully. 

The girls turned. Coming behind them but 
from another direction were two red lights evi- 
dently carried by some person or persons. 

The girls huddled together, too much fright- 
ened to move. 

Suddenly Ruzena gave a funny, relieved, 
nervous laugh. “ Why, if it isn’t Jozef and 
Janik! ” she exclaimed aloud and then ran for- 
ward and threw her arms about the astonished 
boys. 


58 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

“ Oh, you dears, how did you know that we 
were lost? ” 

Jozef and Janik were surprised. They had 
had no idea that the girls were in the cellar. 
They had gone into Janik’s storeroom for some 
raw sour-kraut, and Janik had related how his 
big brother had ventured quite a distance into 
one of the passage-ways the week before. 
“ Let’s go, too,” had suggested Jozef. Both 
boys had run home for some lanterns, never 
dreaming that they should meet the girls. 

“ Huh,” grunted Jozef, after Ruzena’s em- 
brace, not yet comprehending. And when the 
boys did comprehend, well — it was rather nice 
to be treated like heroes ! They listened to the 
girls, but although they glanced sideways now 
and then at each other, offered no explanations. 

Then Jozef and Janik quarreled and while 
waiting to make up, Jozef had an inspiration. 

“ The girls won’t try this again,” he com- 
muned with himself, “ and sometime I’ll give 


An Adventure 


59 

Janik a scare by going through our passage to 
his. Perhaps Pd better store a little food in it, 
for I might ask some of the other boys to come 
in with me, and it’d be nicer to have some food 
and play we’re those old Hussites.” 

So, little by little, Jozef smuggled in food 
of all kinds; some sugar, more wheat than sev- 
eral boys could eat, sunflower and pumpkin 
seeds, — the latter considered a particular 
delicacy, — a small bag of raisins and nuts, a 
handful of dried mixed fruit in a preserve jar, 
and various other things. 


CHAPTER VIII 


a visit to “ Matthew’s land ” 

Other things occurred so unexpectedly and 
rapidly that boylike, Jozef forgot all about his 
store of hidden food. Late in the Fall, most 
of the children under twelve were back in 
school. 

Their home chores now had to be done on 
Wednesdays, which, instead of Saturdays, were 
their holidays, or before or after school hours. 
Ruzena’s favorite studies were embroidery, 
drawing and painting, for, like most of the 
peasants, she had inherited a decided art in- 
stinct. Even her mother, who had never had 
any lessons, had painted without patterns pretty 
borders around the guest and living rooms; 
while her father, also untaught, had made and 
carved the two pretty chairs in the latter, and 


60 


A Visit to “Matthew’s Land” 6l 

also the long shelf on which stood a fine array 
of village pottery. Besides the work at school, 
Ruzena also had crocheting, knitting, and em- 
broidery at home. It was mostly for herself, 
for her mother had her follow the local custom 
of beginning in childhood to work on her 
trousseau. 

There were other holidays from school work 
besides the Sundays and Wednesdays, such as 
Dusickovy Vecer, which comes in November, 
the Slovak Memorial Day. 

It was frosty and cold on this particular 
memorial day; there were even some icicles 
hanging from trees and bushes. A few flowers, 
from indoor window gardens, and hundreds of 
candles, had been placed and lit on the rude 
graves. In their dim light, figures could be 
seen kneeling and praying. Here the light fell 
on an old man with a patient, gentle face, and 
there on a young girl, her red skirts adding 
color to the scene. Children were about, too, 


62 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

most of them in fur coats, and none of them 
quiet for long. In the middle of the cemetery 
a group of men and women were gathered 
around a cross, while some one prayed. It was 
an impressive occasion, and as the villagers 
strolled homeward there was no loud singing 
nor even talking. 

After Dusickovy Vecer, Jozef and Ruzena 
were taken by Jozef s godfather to a little vil- 
lage far up in the beautiful Tatras, where life 
was much more primitive and much harder 
than in their own little rude village, the Magyar 
Government showing no concern whatever in 
the people’s welfare. 

On the way to this village, they crossed a 
part of what the people around call “ Mat- 
thew’s Land,” because over it once ruled one of 
the great figures of their history, Matthew 
Csak, Lord of the Vah and Tatras, as he called 
himself. 

There are many castles in the mountains, but 


A Visit to “Matthew’s Land” 63 

the most interesting was that actually in- 
habited by Matthew in the early part of the 
fourteenth century. 

Matthew’s career was brief but remarkable. 
He was a Palatine, holding the highest office in 
the power of the King to bestow. He ruled 
over what is now the greater part of Slovakia, 
possessing enormous wealth, of which thirty 
fortified castles were a small part. In these 
castles he held court on a scale that rivaled 
that of the King himself. 

When the male line of the Arpad Kings of 
Hungary became extinct, it was largely through 
his influence that a Czech King, Vaclav II, was 
called to the throne. Unfortunately, instead 
of coming himself, Vaclav sent his son, then a 
lad of thirteen. 

To this the Pope, who had much to say in 
politics in those days, objected, and the King 
of Anjou, taking advantage of being preferred, 
seized the throne. 


64 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

Powerful nobles rose up in arms against him, 
but the one he feared most was Matthew. He 
tried his best to gain his favor, but in vain. 
Then the Pope excommunicated Matthew, who 
retaliated by burning a bishop’s stronghold. 
From everywhere nobles, zemans, and peasants 
flocked to his standards. 

The Anjou King now made peace with all 
the other nobles, and resolved to direct his 
efforts to crushing the chief rebel. Near the 
little River Torysa, the armies of the two met. 
The King’s was enormous, and although the 
Slovaks under Matthew fought bravely, they 
were so greatly outnumbered that they were 
defeated. 

Although Matthew was defeated, he was 
not reduced in rank. He retired for a time to 
one of his castles, and then gradually assumed 
his old powers, which he exercised to the day 
of his death. 

“ Had Matthew succeeded in this rebellion,” 


A Visit to “Matthew’s Land” 65 

Jozef’s godfather concluded in telling the story, 
“ he might have laid the foundations of a suc- 
cessful Slovak state, for the Slovaks at that time 
still had in mind the part they had played in the 
big Moravian Kingdom of Svatopluk.” 


CHAPTER IX 


JOZEF GOES TO SCHOOL 

A wonderful opportunity now came for 
Jozef. He was only twelve and had just com- 
pleted the course in the primary school. 

“ Jozef is bright. He is above the average 
in his studies,” the teacher told his parents. 
“ He ought to continue school work.” 

“ I’d let him go on if we had schools of our 
own, but I won’t have him go to a Magyar 
school to forget his language and learn to de- 
spise his own kin like Shlachta’s boy,” his 
father declared with emphasis. 

“ Better have him ignorant than false to his 
birthright,” his mother agreed. 

The teacher nodded. He understood. 

“ If you could only send him to Bohemia,” 
he suggested. 


66 


Jozef Goes to School 67 

“ If,” repeated the father grimly. 

“What is this about Bohemia?” asked 
Jozef’s godfather, who had just come up. He 
was a tall, thin, muscular man, whose hair hung 
down his back in two tiny braids. He was 
known for his liberal and somewhat “ hereti- 
cal ” opinions. “ I am going there after the 
holidays. Do you want to send some mes- 
sage? ” 

The teacher explained to him how things 
stood. “ If we don’t educate our children,” 
he pleaded, “ the Magyars will take greater 
and greater advantage of our ignorance.” 

Jozef’s godfather stood a few moments in 
thought. Then he nodded good-by and left. 
The teacher was not put out. He was glad 
that he was going to think it over. 

The next morning the godfather was over at 
Jozef’s house bright and early. 

“ I’ve decided,” he said, “ that the teacher is 
right. In Bohemia, Jozef will learn more 


68 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

about his own country than we can ever teach 
him here and he’ll learn to fight. I’ll take him 
with me and somehow we’ll find means to pay 
for his schooling there.” 

So, one day, Jozef found himself whirled 
away on a train over the fertile farm lands of 
Moravia, in parts of which there are many 
Slovak villages, through Nivnitz, where the 
great Moravian educator, John Amos 
Comenius was born, through towns and ham- 
lets until they came to Brno, Moravia’s capital. 
They changed trains here, and Jozef had time 
to see the Spielberg, crowned by a citadel long 
used as a Government prison, with its horrible 
torture cells, which throw some light on the 
conception of humanity of the Hapsburg 
Monarchy. 

And then away again but not to Praha, 
Bohemia’s capital. Instead, Jozef’s godfather 
was bound for Tabor, one of the most interest- 
ing towns of Bohemia, having been founded by 


Jozef Goes to School 69 

one of the great religious reform parties at the 
outbreak of the Hussite Wars. This was the 
town of Jan Zizka, the redoubtable military 
hero of the times. 

Jozef was full of questions regarding this 
patriot and military genius — the greatest one 
of his age. He learned that he is regarded by 
many as the inventor of modern tactics, that he 
organized peasants and mechanics so wonder- 
fully that they beat back and drove into despair 
the best trained arm-clad knights of Europe; 
that he never lost a battle ; and that he probably 
was the composer of a splendid hymn, “ All 
Ye Warriors of God,” which seemed to inspire 
his men with wonderful power as they sang it 
marching to battle. At the battle of Domaz- 
lice (Taus), which took place after Zizka’s 
death, 130,000 crusaders entered Bohemia, 
proclaiming that they would not let a single 
heretic live. They proceeded with plunder and 
slaughter until they reached Domazlice, where 


70 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

they pitched their camp. Some days after, the 
report spread among them that the Hussites, 
now under the command of Zizka’s splendid 
successor, Prokop the Great, were on their way 
and that a battle was imminent. 

While the Hussites were still four miles dis- 
tant, the crusaders heard the rattle of their 
famous wagons and the mighty tones of the 
hymn sung by the whole Hussite army. It 
made such a terrible impression that the 
fanatical soldiers fled before the song, even the 
curses of the Cardinal failing to stop them. 

Not knowing the passages of the gray 
Bohemian mountain forest they were overtaken 
by the Hussite vanguards; many thousands 
were killed and many more taken prisoners. 
Their camp with all the ammunition and provi- 
sions fell into the hands of their captors. Thus 
a song proved more mighty than the sword. 

“ Fear not those, the Lord hath said, 

Who would your body harm. 


Jozef Goes to School 


71 


For love of your fellowmen, 

He hath ordered you to die, 

Hence take courage manfully.” 

This great victory for a time put an end to 
all efforts to make Bohemia betray her con- 
science. 

Before Jozef’s godfather left for home, he 
told the boy another and beautiful story about 
Prokop. 

“Not only did Prokop repulse the enemy 
when they invaded Bohemia, but he himself 
made incursions into neighboring lands. Once 
he led his army to the walls of Naumburg, in 
German Saxony. The inhabitants were seized 
with great terror for all counted on the town 
being entirely destroyed. 

“In the midst of the dismay, some one ad- 
vised the townspeople to send the children of 
the town to the enemy’s camp. * It is possible,’ 
he said, ‘ that they may soften the leader’s 
heart.’ 


72 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

“ The people took the advice and the next 
day four hundred and fifty children, gowned in 
white, assembled- before the Town Hall. Two 
hundred armed citizens accompanied them to 
the gate. 

“ When the children reached Prokop’s camp, 
they fell down on their knees before him and 
begged him to spare the town. 

“ Prokop was deeply affected. He detained 
the children until evening, treating them to all 
the peas and cherries that they could eat. 
When it began to grow dark he sent them home. 
‘Tell your parents,’ he said to them, ‘that I 
will spare the town. But see that when you 
reach the gate you shout : “ Victory to the 

Hussites!”’ 

“ The next day the Hussites left the vicinity 
without having harmed a single living thing. 

“ In memory of the event, the people of 
Naumburg hold an annual festival in which the 
children march to the spot where once stood the 


Jozef Goes to School 73 

Hussite camp. Here they are treated to peas 
and cherries. The occasion is called the 
Hussite Cherry Festival.” 


CHAPTER X 


SCHOOL DAYS IN BOHEMIA 

After arrangements had been made for 
Jozef to live with some distant relatives, his 
godfather bade him good-by. 

“ Learn all you can, the better to help your 
native land,” he said to him in parting. 

It was not long before Jozef felt quite at 
home. The boys at first teased him about his 
dialect, but it was such good-natured teasing 
that he did not mind it. Once when the 
teacher overheard them, he said:. 

“ Do not care. Your language may not be 
as literary as ours, but it is softer and more 
musical, and hence much more pleasing.” 

Jozef became very fond of the city. With a 
“ heretic ” friend, he used to wander over the 


74 



u 


HE USED TO WANDER 


TO THE FORTIFICATIONS 


99 





School Days in Bohemia 7£ 

curiously arranged, toothed old streets, to the 
fortifications that still stand, or to the river 
that surrounds the city on three sides. Or they 
would stand and stare and discuss the statues of 
Jan Hus, the religious martyr, of his mar- 
velously eloquent friend, Jerome of Prague, of 
Jan Zizka, and of Prokop the Great. These 
and many historic relics were in the odd, triple- 
gabled Town Hall, finished in 1521, in the big 
market square. 

The statue of Zizka had an especial fascina- 
tion for them. They could see him walking 
right there in the Square, surrounded by armed 
warriors, looking just as here represented, with 
expressive bent head, long mustache, and heavy 
fur coat over his shirt of mail. In one hand 
he held a sword, in the other, that terrible 
weapon that they knew was once called by the 
fanciful name of the morning star. 

Besides the Town Hall there were other in- 
teresting irregularly built buildings, with 


76 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

peculiar ornamentation, in the Square. Before 
one of them still stood one of the stone tables 
on which the Taborites took communion in the 
open air. 

How very different Bohemia seemed to him 
from Slovakia ! Here every one was proud of 
his nationality, which despite heavy taxes and 
many other oppressions, the people had retained 
through the efforts of great unselfish leaders 
who ceaselessly battled for their rights. He 
forgot the humility that he used to feel when 
meeting a contemptuous Magyar. Soon he 
held his head as high as the Czech boys did 
when they came face to face with Germans who 
through wrong training, in their wicked conceit, 
looked upon every nationality not their own, as 
far below them. In Tabor this was not at all 
hard with all the voiceless eloquent teachers 
around that reminded of past greatness and re- 
sistance to injustice. 

Jozef soon felt one of the family in the ex- 


School Days in Bohemia 77 

cellent home in which he boarded. Nothing 
pleased the good-hearted house mother more 
than his usually hearty appetite, and she seldom 
failed to applaud it by some quaint folk saying, 
as “ A hearty eater is a hearty worker.” She 
had no patience with fussiness about selection 
of food, and if she saw any would exclaim: 
“ He who is fussy about his food, may learn 
to think any cheese would be good.” 

In the first days of his stay, Jozef accom- 
panied her once to a market day in the Square. 
The farmers seemed to him to have brought a 
little of every kind of food that one could wish 
for. There was sweet home-churned butter, 
cottage and other cheese, eggs, poultry, vege- 
tables, fruit, honey, mushrooms, poppy seed for 
cakes, and grain of all kinds. 

In school Jozef was now in what was called 
the Lower Gymnasium. He had to be in the 
school building, which was not far from his 
boarding place, at a quarter to eight in the 


78 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

morning. Sundays and Thursdays were holi- 
days. The school exercises began by all the 
pupils repeating the Lord’s Prayer and Ave 
Maria. After that the time was devoted to the 
regular studies. The classes were named by 
Latin numerals, prima, secunda, etc. to octava. 

At ten o’clock came a short recess, in which 
the children of the Lower Gymnasium played 
ball; those of the upper thought it below their 
dignity to do so. Sometimes instead, the 
pupils indulged in a little lunch by buying but- 
tered bread, cheese, or fruit from the janitor. 

Whenever a Professor entered the room or 
left it, all the children stood up as a sign of 
respect. 

Jozef soon came to share the devotion of the 
children to the teacher, a man of delicate health 
but great spiritual vision, who constantly called 
the attention of the pupils to the idealism found 
in Bohemian (Czech) history. Through him 
the pupils learned, too, that Austria was largely 


School Days in Bohemia 79 

parasite, living on Czech wealth; that the 
Czechs paid sixty-two per cent of all the taxes 
in Austria to support passive non-Slav lands; 
that eighty-three per cent of Austrian coal was 
mined in Bohemia; that sixty per cent of the 
iron was found there; that ninety per cent of 
beet sugar factories were located there; that 
textile and other industries were important. 
They also learned that the renowned Bohemian 
glass employs over fifty thousand workers; 
that there are excellent highways, extending to 
ten thousand miles, and several important rail- 
road lines; that one-third of all the gold and 
silver mined in Hungary is mined in neglected 
Slovakia. Jozef was particularly impressed by 
the fact that despite all the discrimination of 
the Government against the Czech schools, the 
Czechs were by far the most literate people of 
the monarchy. 

History came to be Jozef’s favorite study. 
He devoted much time particularly to the 


8o Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

glorious reign of Charles I, known also as 
Emperor Charles IV, who probably did more 
for Bohemia than any other monarch. 

One of the teacher’s favorites was King 
George (Jiri) of Podebrad, sometimes called 
the “ Heretic King of Bohemia.” Jozef did 
not appreciate his full significance and was more 
interested in the stories told of his jester, whose 
name was Palecek. 

Palecek was no ordinary jester. He was an 
educated man of noble birth, who by playing 
the fool could often tell truths other courtiers 
dared not utter. Because he addressed every 
one, even the King with his permission, as 
“ Brother,” he himself came to be known as 
“ Brother Palecek.” One thing Brother 
Palecek felt as a particular duty was to keep 
the King in lively humor, for the cares of state 
were very heavy at the time. 

Once the King gave a large dinner. At his 
table sat the Queen, princes and princesses, and 


School Days in Bohemia 81 

the highest nobles of the realm. The younger 
nobles and others who served the King sat at a 
table apart. When Brother Palecek arrived, 
he was not very well pleased at being placed at 
this lower table. Soon he had another griev- 
ance ; big fish were being passed to the King and 
those around him, while only little fish with 
many bones, came to the table at which he sat. 

Gaining the attention of those about him, he 
took up one of the fish and held it to his ear 
and asked it: “ Little fish, do you know any- 
thing about my brother ?” and then placed it 
down again. 

Then he took a second fish and asked : 
“ Little fish, do you know anything about my 
brother? ” Again he laid it down and took up 
a third. 

The young people about him burst into 
laughter, so funny did Palecek look while do- 
ing this. The King asked what was amusing 
them. 


82 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

“ If it please Your Majesty,” one of them 
answered, “ Brother Palecek is conversing with 
the fish.” 

“ Brother Palecek,” said the King, “ what 
are you doing? ” 

“ Brother King,” replied Palecek, “ I’ll tell 
you. I had a brother fisherman who was 
drowned in the river. So I am asking these 
little fish if they know anything about him.” 

“And what do they tell you?” asked the 
King. 

“ They tell me,” returned Palecek, “ that 
they’re still too young and small to know any- 
thing about it, but that I’d better ask those 
bigger, older fish that are on your table.” 

The King laughed and ordered the largest 
fish of all to be placed on a dish and given to 
Palecek. These the jester accepted gracefully 
and shared, amid general good cheer, with all 
at his table. 

There were various boys’ associations, 


School Days in Bohemia 83 

which Jozef was soon invited to attend or was 
asked to join. One was a boys’ orchestra. In 
this land of music, it was very natural that all 
who formed a part of it should have been en- 
thusiasts. As an encouragement to its mem- 
bers, the orchestra received free tickets to all 
the purely national concerts given in the city. 
Thus Jozef came to know better the works of 
the great Czech composers, Antonin Dvorak, 
Bedrich Smetana, and Zdenko Fibich. He 
thus also had an opportunity to hear Jan 
Kubelik, the renowned violinist, and Emmy 
Destinn, the prima donna. 

Now and then the school children were 
taken to a national art exhibit. One of Vaclav 
Brozik, whose “ Columbus at the Court of 
Queen Isabella ” is known to all American 
children, and one of Alfons Mucha, known also 
in America for his poster work, but renowned 
in his own country in other lines as well, were 
followed by one of Joza Uprka, the Moravian 


84 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

Slovak, whose paintings of his beloved country 
folks, with their riot of color, and his passionate 
portrayal of the action and joy of life, made 
Jozef for a time quite homesick for the simpler, 
more picturesque life of his mother’s home. 


CHAPTER XI 


WAR 

The world rang with the assassination of 
the Austrian Archduke, Francis Ferdinand, and 
his wife, at Sarajevo, in a province of Austria- 
Hungary, but quite outside the Czech and 
Slovak lands. It was a terrible deed with 
which no law-loving people were in sympathy. 
But when Austria, backed by Germany, seized 
the killing as a pretext for declaring war on 
little Serbia, both Czechs and Slovaks felt the 
grave injustice, and despite all efforts made by 
the Government, very few of them could be 
induced to make any demonstration in favor of 
the action. When Germany mobilized, there 
was no doubt in the minds of any but that the 
War was simply one against all the Slavs, who 
85 


86 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

opposed German possession of Middle Europe 
and German and Magyar ideas of superiority 
and power. 

It was a hard time through which all the 
Slavic people of Austria-Hungary had to pass. 
It was hardest on those who, like the Czechs 
and Slovaks, were forced to fight on a side that 
they detested, against their own interests. In 
the face of the terrorist methods employed, 
their resistance and sacrifices are remarkable. 

The Government feared them. No sooner 
was war declared than Czech and Slovak 
troops were sent from their home lands into the 
Austro-Hungarian province farthest from 
them, Transylvania, and foreign soldiers took 
their places. German soldiers are said to 
have patrolled Bohemia’s borders. 

It was during the first days that Prof. T. G. 
Masaryk, on the advice of his colleagues who 
understood how the War menaced the Czech 
and Slovak lands, was fortunate enough to 


War 87 

escape from the country with one of his 
daughters. From then on until Czecho- 
slovakia was recognized, he worked incessantly 
for Czecho-Slovak independence. 

When Austria declared war, it did what no 
other country taking part in the War did: it 
declared war without first gaining the consent 
of Parliament. It was a high-handed act 
which the Czechs, in particular, resented. 
Great gloom prevailed. In sympathy with the 
principles of the Allies, knowing intimately the 
world menace of Germany as few outsiders 
knew it, the leaders were seeking means of pro- 
test when one after another was thrown into 
prison. Newspaper and magazine editors 
followed in quick succession. But the people, 
like the Hussites of old, stood firm in their faith 
and determination to sacrifice all for the right 
and to quietly resist in every way that promised 
to be effectual. 

Jozef saw the soldiers march off from Tabor 


88 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

with a look of peculiar resolve in their eyes, and 
heard mothers and fathers whisper with their 
good-bys : 

“ You know your duty to your native land.” 
When later he heard of patriotic soldiers shot 
because refusing to go forward; of Czech and 
Slovak soldiers branded as traitors because 
they deserted to the Allies and, reforming in 
their ranks, fought their real enemies, the Ger- 
mans of Germany, the Germans of Austria, and 
the Magyars of Hungary, he understood better 
what a big and splendid thing this duty was. 

For a while, work in the school continued, 
but everything seemed different. Patriotic 
songs with their beautiful melodies were no 
longer allowed to be sung; the old school books 
with their brilliant, romantic, yet true recitals 
of Bohemia’s wonderful, heroic past, were re- 
placed entirely by newly written books full of 
praise of the Hapsburg rulers and of Germany. 
Jozef and the other pupils rejoiced in one thing: 


War 89 

they still had the same teacher. But this re- 
joicing did not continue long. One day they 
found the school doors closed and learned that 
the teacher had been taken to prison accused of 
disloyalty because he had allowed a ten-year- 
old pupil to walk home humming the national 
air, “ Kde domov muj ” (Where is my home ?) . 

“ Where is my home, 

Where is my home? 

Waters through its meads are streaming, 
Mounts with rustling woods are teeming, 

Vales are bright with flow’rets rare, 

Oh, Earth’s Eden, thou art fair! 

Thou art my home, my fatherland, 

Thou art my home, my fatherland ! ” 

News of still more imprisonments and execu- 
tions followed daily. The older daughter of 
Prof. Masaryk was imprisoned, mainly as a 
punishment to her father, who was working so 
hard against the Central Powers abroad. 
Machar, one of the greatest poets of Bohemia, 
shared the same fate because of a poem pub- 
lished in the United States, without the poet’s 


QO Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

consent — a poem passed many years before by 
the Austrian censor ! 

Strange rumors spread. Once Jozef and his 
particular friend, Jaroslav, walked out of the 
city in the direction of Blanik, a mountain 
around which are clustered many traditions. 
They were overtaken and offered a ride by a 
very old man. 

“ Who are you and where are you going? ” 
he asked. 

“ We’re students in the Lower Gymnasium,” 
Jaroslav answered. “ We’re only out for a 
walk, for there is no school. We’re go- 
ing toward Blanik, but don’t expect to get so 
far.” 

“ Better not,” said the old man sternly. 
“ Who knows but the old tale may be tr-ue that 
the Taborites never died but are hidden, as is 
said, in a cave there. They were to reappear 
at the time of Bohemia’s greatest peril, you 
know. This may be it. There’re lights in 


War 


91 

that mountain, I tell you; don’t breathe a word 
of it; but also don’t go there.” 

Here he let the boys alight, and they walked 
on speculating on the tradition and as to just 
what the man meant by his last words. 

“ Do you think that some of the Czechs 
go there to discuss things?” asked Jozef. 
Jaroslav did not know what to think. Both 
boys wondered and wondered whether some 
great help might not come to Bohemia from 
the mountain. 

School did not reopen, and food became 
very scarce. It seemed best that Jozef be sent 
back to his home in Slovakia in any makeshift 
way possible. This was done, and after a 
week’s hard and varied travel, he reached home, 
almost starved. In Slovakia he found the 
same persecution of all suspected of lack of 
sympathy with the plans and purposes of the 
Central Powers. 

Four of his relatives had been taken to fight; 


92 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

of these two cousins had been killed, and one 
was reported to have been shot with an entire 
company that refused to advance against the 
Serbians. No one knew where the fourth rela- 
tive, an uncle after whom Jozef had been 
named, was to be found, until Austria-Hungary 
was broken up and he returned home wounded. 
He had a story full of exciting incidents to tell 
and the villagers never tired of hearing it. 

One day a load of miserable looking prison- 
ers passed in cars through the village. It was 
terrible to see them as they lay listlessly against 
each other. It was plain that it had been long 
since they had had anything to eat or drink. 

The villagers were forbidden to give them 
food or to satisfy their thirst, but the kind- 
hearted Slovak maidens found a way to help 
nevertheless. How the idea spread not many 
of the girls knew, but there was a sudden inter- 
change of knitting material. It must have con- 
tained a message, for the girls, far thinner than 



yy 


THE VILLAGERS NEVER TIRED OF HEARING IT 






War 


93 

they had been before the War, met before the 
Church and proceeded past the cars in a body, 
as if to view the horrible sight. But most of 
them raised their eyes only for a moment. It 
was when each threw some crusts of bread 
soaked in wine in to the famishing prisoners — 
bread that each had denied herself from her 
own scanty allowance. 

The prettiest girl of all blocked the way as 
long as she could to a Magyar officer, while the 
prisoners, weak as they were, fell like beasts on 
the unexpected treat. 

“ We want to see bad men. We show them 
we think them bad,” the girl said to the officer 
in broken Hungarian, smiling sweetly. 

He smiled in return and, nodding his ap- 
proval of the sentiment, let the girls stay long 
enough for all evidences of what they had done, 
except the brighter looks of the prisoners, to 
have vanished. 

Even harder to bear than the thought of 


94 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

what their loved ones might be suffering in 
battle, was to see the younger children sicken 
because of lack of proper food. Ruzena was 
one of these. She became so ill that the fam- 
ily were seriously alarmed. She refused to 
eat the coarse food which was the village’s daily 
ration and piteously begged for something 
different. There was nothing else to offer. 

“ Do go to Janik’s,” the mother one day bade 
Jozef, quite in despair, “ and see if they haven’t 
some little bit of a thing they could let us have 
to tempt her.” 

Janik’s mother was full of sympathy but 
vainly searched her cupboards. At last she 
sent Janik with Jozef to see if there might not 
be some winter vegetable rolled in some corner 
of the cellar. 

The boys searched but found nothing. As 
they were leaving there suddenly flashed upon 
Jozef a recollection of how he had hidden a 
private store some distance in the secret 


War 


95 

passages. Hastily leaving Janik without any 
explanation, he ran excitedly to his mother. 

“ Give me the key to our cellar quick, quick, 
mother ! ” he panted. 

His mother stared. “ What has hap- 
pened? ” 

But Jozef grasped the key without answering 
and ran. Trembling, he lit the lantern and 
made his way into the passage opening, to find 
that the earth had fallen, barring the way. 

Running out again, he leaped into the court- 
yard, and seized a shovel, not glancing at his 
mother, although conscious that she stood close 
to the window gazing out, her face full of 
alarm. 

Again he went into the cellar. Little by 
little the hardened earth was shoveled away 
under his feeble grasp, until he was able to 
crawl into the opening. The air smelled close 
and moldy. “One — two — three — ” Jozef 
counted the ten steps which he remembered 


96 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

having taken and looked around. No food 
was to be seen. He searched for the shelves 
— but they also had vanished. 

Dumbfounded and sadly disappointed, he re- 
traced his steps. 

But instead of getting back to the opening, 
he unexpectedly found himself in another 
passage, and there, oh, joy! his food! 

Loading his arms, he staggered out. With- 
out locking the cellar door, he made his way 
dizzily across the street. 

‘‘Thanks be to the blessed Virgin!” ex- 
claimed his mother in the midst of her amaze- 
ment as he sank on his knees and dropped his 
treasure at Ruzena’s bedside. 



HE DROPPED HIS TREASURE AT RUZENA’S BEDSIDE 






CHAPTER XII 


UNCLE JOZEF’S STORY 

I WAS drafted in July, 1915, and sent with 
others to a Hungarian training camp. We 
were not there long before we heard that we 
were to go to the front. On the day of de- 
parture, Anka, to whom I am engaged, came 
to the station with my mother. There were, 
of course, many other women, all with flowers 
in their arms and all with eyes red from weep- 
ing. For they did not want us to go to fight 
those who had done us no harm. My father, 
who had always been a great patriot, could not 
come, but he sent me these words which he had 
painstakingly copied from our greatest poet: 

“ It is shameful when in misery to moan 
over our fate; he who by his deeds appeases 


97 


98 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

the wrath of Heaven, acts better. Not from 
a tearful eye but from a diligent hand fresh 
hope will blossom. Thus even evil may yet be 
changed to good.” 

Later this fell into the hands of a German, 
but he did not understand it. I did. 

It was hard to part. My mother, in the 
midst of her uncontrollable sobs, whispered : 

“ Jozef, when the time comes, you know 
what you must do.” 

It was hard to part. At the end, Anka gave 
me some red and white ribbon, the Czech and 
Slovak colors, which I tied around my rifle. It 
did not remain there long, for when the Magyar 
captain in charge of our battalion saw it, he 
swore savagely, and taking his saber, cut it off 
and stamped it under his heels. Not satisfied, 
he deliberately hit me a blow from which I 
suffered for many days. At the same time he 
muttered: “Take care what you are about, 
you Slovak dog! ” 


Uncle Jozef’s Story gg 

My companions were as indignant as myself 
at the insult to our colors to which we have 
every right. “ If a time comes when we can 
revenge ourselves, we’ll not forget,” we 
promised one another. 

By this time we had all heard, somehow, of 
Czechs and Slovaks who refused to fight 
against the Allies, declaring that they had not 
voted for the War, and ought not to be com- 
pelled to fight; and of many Czech and Slovak 
desertions. Just before we left, there was 
fiendish rejoicing among the Austrian Germans 
and Magyars, because a Czech regiment, in- 
tending to desert to the Russians, had been 
trapped, and all the officers and every tenth 
private shot. The story did not frighten us 
or make us less determined to surrender if 
opportunity offered. Better to be shot, we told 
ourselves, than to serve those who in victory 
would treat our people still worse than they 
had already done. 


100 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 


We got to the front at Rovno and all that 
day were kept working without a morsel to 
eat. We had just finished entrenching our- 
selves, when Russian shrapnel blew over us. 

Towards morning, I heard shouting. Soon 
after I saw a bearded Russian with a long 
bayonet, standing over me. I tried to tell him 
I was a friend, but he had no time to listen, for 
Austrian machine gun shot began to come from 
the rear, and, with others, I was taken to a 
wood not far away. 

It was already full of prisoners. As soon 
as we came, the Austrian and Magyar prisoners 
pitched into us, claiming that what had hap- 
pened was the fault of those “ Czech and 
Slovak cowards.” Even here, the Germans 
and Austrians blustered and tried to order us 
about. 

We were very hungry, but nothing was given 
us to eat until we reached Rovno. Here we 
received a little, several of us sharing one bowl. 


Uncle Jozef’s Story 101 

After that we were marched to Kiev, a distance 
between two hundred and three hundred miles. 
We still had very little to eat, for Magyars and 
Austrian Germans had not yet got over their 
notion of being superior people and so entitled 
to more than we. When we complained, they 
even beat us. One poor fellow who had 
grabbed a loaf of bread from a Magyar who 
had two, was found next morning with his 
throat cut. 

Our prison camp was at Darnica, near the 
city. It was just a big field with some trees, 
surrounded by barb wire. I remained here 
about two weeks when, because workmen were 
needed and because of Czecho-Slovak efforts in 
Petrograd, we were allowed to volunteer for 
work on farms or in ammunition factories. 

I chose the latter and came to Kiev. I had 
not been in the city long, before I heard that 
Czech and Slovak prisoners were being or- 
ganized to join a so-called Hussite legion which 


102 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

was made up of Czech and Slovak residents of 
Russia, who had already rendered valuable 
assistance to the Russians as scouts. The 
Russian authorities had been opposed to the 
plan at first, not caring to encourage revolu- 
tionaries, even though not Russian revolution- 
aries. However, in the end, a grudging con- 
sent was given. I wished to join, but was not 
permitted to leave my work. 

Then the Revolution came, and, as the 
prisoners were freed, the Czechs and Slovaks 
flocked to their own colors, and I with them. 
If I live forever I shall never forget how I felt 
when I found myself among my own people, our 
red and white flag waving over us, and heard 
the band play our “ Kde domov muj.” 

When we had to swear our oath of loyalty 
to Francis Joseph before leaving Austria- 
Hungary, all Czech and Slovak soldiers 
mumbled the words. When we swore the oath 
of obedience to Prof. Masaryk, “ the little 


Uncle Jozef’s Story 103 

father,” as we called him, who had come to 
Russia, we shouted it so joyously and loudly 
that the people from around came to see what 
all the noise was about. 


CHAPTER XIII 


UNCLE JOZEF’S STORY CONTINUED 

I WAS so happy now. Every morning I 
awakened with a smile on my lips and a song 
in my heart. For were we not going to free 
our dear, our native land, of the usurper? We 
again sang our native songs, which we had not 
been allowed to sing in the land of our birth; 
sang them so often that we came to be known 
as “ The Singing Czecho-Slovaks.” Whatever 
state we came from, Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, 
or Slovakia, we were quite united now, and had 
only one word for each other and that word 
was “ Brother.” 

And in the spirit in which we sang, we also 
fought. No longer did the Germans and Mag- 
yars call us cowards. They now called us 
“ red and white devils,” because of the colors 


104 


Uncle Jozef’s Story 105 

on our hats. At the famous charge at Zborov, 
there was almost a religious exaltation as we 
marched to the field singing the glorious hymn 
of the Hussites: “ All Ye Warriors of God.” 
Here we captured sixty-two officers, and three 
thousand one hundred and fifty soldiers, fifteen 
guns and many machine guns, turning most of 
the latter against the enemy. 

But our bravery did little good, the Russians 
were deserting the army so fast. 

In 1917, I was slightly wounded. This pre- 
vented my taking part in the terrible battle at 
Tarnapol, in Galicia, where our men were en- 
tirely abandoned by the Russian troops. It 
was a wonderful charge they made, the men 
rushing in where danger was thickest and re- 
sisting to the last, and the 'officers blowing out 
their brains rather than surrender. 

When the Germans invaded Bessarabia, be- 
fore preparing to resist them, we bound our- 
selves by a most sacred oath : 


106 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

“ In the name of our national honor, in the 
name of all that is most dear to us as men and 
as Czecho-Slovaks, with full realization of this 
step, we swear to fight alongside of our allies 
to the last drop of our blood, against all of our 
enemies, until we have obtained complete libera- 
tion of our Czecho-Slovak nation, until the 
Czech and Slovak lands are reunited into a free 
and independent Czecho-Slovak state, until our 
nation is absolutely mistress of her destinies. 

“ We solemnly promise, whatever may be the 
danger and whatever may be the circumstances, 
without fear and hesitation, never to abandon 
the sacred goal of our fight. 

“ As faithful and honorable soldiers, heirs of 
our noble history, cherishing the heroic deeds of 
our immortal chiefs and martyrs, Jan Hus and 
Jan Zizka of Trocnov, we promise to remain 
worthy of them, never to flee from battle, to 
shirk no danger, to obey the orders of our 
officers, to venerate our flags and standards, 


Uncle Jozef’s Story 107 

never and under no circumstances beg for our 
lives from our enemy and never to surrender 
with weapons in our hands, to love our com- 
panions as brothers and to give them aid in 
danger, to haye no fear of death, to sacrifice 
all, even our lives, for the freedom of our 
fatherland. 

“ So freely, without pressure of any sort, we 
pledge ourselves to act, and so shall we act. 
Such is the duty imposed upon us by honor and 
fidelity toward our people and our country.” 

After the Bolsheviks gained complete control 
of the government, the Czecho-Slovak army 
numbered sixty thousand. We waited hoping 
that things would change for the better, until 
the disgusting Peace of Brest-Litovsk, in Feb- 
ruary, 1918. Then we could not but see that 
our only chance of continuing the fight for free- 
dom was to get to France. Through Professor 
Masaryk, free passage to Vladivostok was 
granted us by the Bolsheviks. 


108 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

It was no little thing that we undertook to 
do. It would have been a big enough enter- 
prise, even under the most favorable conditions. 
There was a journey of over five thousand miles 
across Eastern Russia and Asia, and then across 
the Pacific, across Canada or the United States, 
and finally across the Atlantic. In other 
words, we were willing to undertake a trip 
around the world in order to fight for free- 
dom. In the Russian part, we had to pro- 
cure our trains and provisions, and negotiate 
with practically independent Soviets in every 
district. 

Since concentration at stations was pro- 
hibited, we started for the Pacific in small de- 
tachments. Everywhere we were urged to join 
the Red Guard with promises of high pay and 
good living. But although we had little to eat, 
we refused the bribe. We were in demand, for 
afterwards, Gen. Kornilov, and Kaledines, the 
Cossack hetman, each tried to gain our help. 


Uncle Jozef’s Story 109 

Again we refused, unwilling to interfere in 
Russian internal affairs. 

When we reached Penza, we had a disagree- 
able surprise. Being the last to leave the front, 
we were well armed and had many cannon, 
machine guns and other equipment worth hun- 
dreds of millions of dollars, that would other- 
wise have fallen into the hands of the Ger- 
mans. These we were asked to surrender on 
orders from headquarters, retaining only a few 
rifles and a few hand grenades to each train. 
So anxious were we to leave Russia without a 
fight, that we obeyed the order. 

Later we heard that about this same time in 
Irkutsk, a train division of our men was sur- 
rounded by three thousand of the Red Guard, 
mainly former German and Magyar prisoners, 
and under German officers, all well armed and 
with many machine guns. Our men had only 
one gun to every ten men, but when the German 
officer gave the command to shoot, the Czechs 


lio Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

rushed barehanded at them, captured their 
guns, and in half an hour had control of the 
station. 

Even then the Moscow authorities were 
begged by Masaryk, and by the French, British, 
and American consuls that our troops be al- 
lowed to proceed in peace. Instead, Trotsky 
ordered every Czecho-Slovak soldier caught 
with arms to be shot at sight. 

At Vertunovka we had a long wait. We 
employed it in decorating the box cars in which 
we traveled, in ways to remind us of the old 
brave days of Jan Hus and Jan Zizka, when 
the Czechs of Bohemia held all of astonished 
Europe at bay for almost a quarter of a cen- 
tury. As we worked, we each resolved to 
prove ourselves worthy of these ancestors. 

Some of the boys added inscriptions to the 
decorations, such as, “ Long live Little Father 
Masaryk and the Allies,” and put Czech and 
Slovak flags about so that our cars really looked 


Uncle Jozefs Story in 

very nice, each platoon striving to have theirs 
the best. 

As we made our way, by fair means when we 
could, by force when necessary, we found 
Magyar and Germans in control everywhere. 
Our very own first conflict came when a Magyar 
in a train of prisoners hit one of our men with 
a piece of iron, injuring him very seriously. 
We thought him killed and rushed to the train 
and demanded the surrender of the murderer. 
This led to more trouble. We had few arms, 
but took up rocks and followed the train into 
the city, singing as we marched. The Soviet 
buildings were deserted when we reached them, 
and evidently in a hurry, for we found some 
rifles which we seized with thanksgiving. 

After this delay we resolved to pay no more 
attention to delays ordered by the Bolsheviki, 
but to push on as quickly as possible to 
Vladivostok. Fighting now began in earnest. 
Everywhere success was with us. Our spirit 


112 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

would allow of no defeat. When we were 
menaced, we took the enemy by surprise; we 
had set out to get to France and we intended 
getting to France, no matter what difficulties we 
had to meet and conquer. We seized trains; 
we took city after city. While the Bolshevik 
propaganda failed to appeal to us, it was not 
it so much we fought as the objection of its 
supporters to, and lack of comprehension of 
our love of country. We knew that the 
Magyars and the Germans who were with the 
Russian Bolsheviks, fought us not so much be- 
cause of our lack of sympathy with the doc- 
trines they professed, as because of our 
nationality. 

In the meantime, our forces constantly grew 
by means of new recruits. Our fame grew also 
as we advanced. Sometimes the mere rumor 
that the Czecho-Slovaks were coming, caused 
the enemy to flee. And all through Siberia, we 
were welcomed by the real inhabitants as de- 


Uncle Jozef’s Story 113 

liverers. By the end of two weeks, three 
thousand miles of railroad were in our hands. 

Then, when finally we reached Vladivostok, 
on the Pacific, we found that we were not to go 
to France after all, that the Allies thought we 
had a more important work to do where we 
were, especially in keeping the railroad, and 
hence the wealth of Siberian grain and mineral, 
from reaching the Central Powers. This was 
also fighting for liberty, and, without a murmur, 
we accepted our new duty. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE CZECHO-SLOVAK REPUBLIC 

It was October, and Jozef’s godfather had 
gone again to Bohemia, this time as a delegate 
representing the Slovak National Council. 
The Czecho-Slovak National Alliance and its 
army had been recognized formally some time 
before as an ally by the great powers and 
greater events were scheduled to follow. 

When he reached beautiful “ hundred- 
towered ” Praha, the capital, he found the 
streets and coffee houses jammed with people. 
Every face had an expectant look in which 
anxiety and confidence were blended. Toward 
the end of the month their expectations were 
realized. The National Council took over the 
government of the Czecho-Slovak countries, 
Bohemia, Moravia, Silesia, and Slovakia, all of 


The Czecho-Slovak Republic ii£ 

them formerly belonging to the Austro- 
Hungarian Monarchy. 

It was a bloodless revolution, for the Aus- 
trian Government realized the hopelessness of 
its position. 

All the great sufferings through which they 
had passed — the hunger, the fear, the grief 
— were forgotten by the people in the great 
joy of their liberation. Old men embraced 
each other; old women wept in each other’s 
arms with happiness that they had lived to see 
the day. People from all the states, with their 
slight variations of dialect, were there; Czechs, 
Moravians, Czecho-Silesians, and Slovaks. 
The ties of close kinship were felt as never 
before. 

Crowds stood on the big St. Vaclav Square 
listening to the Proclamation of Independence 
from the steps of the splendid National 
Museum. When the reading came to an end, 
the people, with one voice, sang the ancient 


n6 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

Czech choral to St. Vaclav, Bohemia’s patron 
saint. 

Almost every hour a new report came : now 
that the Emperor’s Governor had fled; now that 
the Magyar soldiers, who had been stationed 
in the city, cared for nothing except to be 
allowed to return to Hungary; now that the 
commanders of the local garrison had put them- 
selves at the disposal of the Czecho-Slovak 
government. 

Similar scenes took place in the historical 
Old Town Square, around the splendid monu- 
ment of John Hus, that three years before had 
had to be unveiled by stealth. Men, women, 
and children felt that the noble past of which 
Czechs have always been so proud, was come 
again. Pride swelled their hearts, too, that all 
that they ^ere gaining had come to them 
through efforts and sacrifices of their own, so 
great that the world had been forced to recog- 
nize and admire. 


The Czechoslovak Republic 117 

On the following day the Slovak delegates 
were received officially, thus uniting the two 
branches of the Czecho-Slovak nation. 

The first act of the new state was to declare 
a republican form of Government with Thomas 
Garigue Masaryk as President. 

President Masaryk was to take up his official 
residence in the immense royal palace so long 
deserted. Carpenters and others were busy 
modernizing it. 

This palace had lived through unusual 
vicissitudes of fortune. Already in the tenth 
century, a stone fortified palace stood there, but 
it was not until the reign of Bohemia’s beloved 
King Charles I that it assumed something of 
its present form, being modeled by him after 
the Louvre of Paris. It was enlarged by King 
Vladislav, the principal hall being named after 
him. In Rudolph’s time other Halls were 
added. 

After the defeat of the White Mountain, 


li8 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

when Bohemia lost her independence, it no 
longer served as a royal residence, and was 
practically deserted. In 1757, it was bom- 
barded, to be rebuilt and enlarged by Empress 
Maria Theresa. 

And now the greatest change of all: it was 
to -be the home of the President of a thoroughly 
democratic state. 

Many days following were festal days. 
People flocked to the churches, particularly to 
the Cathedral of St. Vitus, which is one of the 
great works of King Charles. 

While the young people looked forward to 
the future, the old recalled the past. 

“ Ah, how King Charles in his heavenly home 
will rejoice,” one bent old woman, supported 
on crutches, murmured. 

“ And saintly Vaclav, too,” scarcely breathed 
another so emaciated that she looked like a 
moving shadow. “ He’ll be proud now that 
Bohemia is called after him the Realm of St. 


The Czecho-Slovak Republic 119 

Vaclav. Ah, I must see once more those 
precious relics we have kept of him.” 

With difficulty she made her way to the 
Cathedral where St. Vaclav’s helmet, sword, 
and coat of mail have been religiously pre- 
served. 

Jozef’s godfather sent him several picture 
postcards reminding him of Jozef’s hero, King 
Charles. One represented the historic stone 
bridge, which Charles had had built with such 
care that he did not live to see it finished. On 
this card he wrote : 

“ All the statues on the bridge have a dazed 
expression. I wonder what they think of the 
change.” 

Another card was of the old walls of Praha, 
working on which through the King’s care 
saved a thousand men from starving in a time 
of famine. 

“ I walked past these fortifications early one 
morning,” was the message, “ and hundreds of 


120 Our Little Czechoslovak Cousin 

birds were among the ruins, all singing the news 
of our glorious resurrection.” 

The third card showed Karluv Tyn, built by 
Charles for the protection of the crown jewels 
and the charters of Bohemia. This beautiful 
castle stands not far from Praha, on a rock of 
jasper a thousand feet above the River Mze. 
To it the King-Emperor sometimes retired for 
the meditative devotion which he found so 
helpful. On this card the message was the 
longest : 

“ Charles did more than build beautiful 
castles and splendid cathedrals. He welcomed 
men of learning and made higher education 
possible even for the poor by founding the 
University of Praha, the first university in all 
of Central Europe. He freed the land of 
robbers; he secured justice to the peasants by 
making it possible for them to appeal to the 
King from the decision of their own feudal 
lords. His name has come down to us revered 


The Czecho-Slovak Republic 121 

and beloved, because of the many evidences of 
his unselfish, constant thought for the people’s 
welfare.” 

By a strange coincidence, on the very day that 
the last postcard came to Jozef in Slovakia, 
another reached him from his friend, Jaroslav. 
It was dated from the famous watering place, 
Carlsbad, in northern Bohemia, where Jaroslav 
had accompanied his father, who had some 
business there. 

“ The Germans here, who have largely con- 
trol of things,” it stated, “ are angry at the turn 
affairs have taken. They clamor about the 
rights of the minority, they who never con- 
sidered the rights of the Slavic majority. But 
I think they are calming down, for they see that 
they’re going to get justice. The Czechs are 
not revengeful. If we treated them as they 
treated us — whew!” He said no more of 
the Germans, but humorously described some of 
the patients he had seen; some very fat, some 


122 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

very thin, all expecting cure from digestive dis- 
turbances. 

A few days before he left, Jozef’s godfather 
took one more walk across the sixteen-arched 
statue decorated Charles Bridge (Karluv 
most), through the picturesque Little Side, with 
its quaint old-time palaces of nobles, up a steep 
and winding street to the Hradcany, as the 
group of buildings around the royal palace to- 
gether with it, is called. 

From these heights, Praha is seen in all its 
wondrous beauty lying on both sides of the 
River Vltava (Moldau). It seems an endless 
succession of parks, gardens, queer roofs that 
are the delight of every artist that sees them, 
and innumerable towers and steeples. Across 
the river he could see the rocky Vysehrad, the 
seat of *the early rulers. It was there that 
Libusa, the reputed founder of Praha, made her 
famous prophecy? “ Lo, before me I see a 
city whose glory reaches to the skies ! ” 


The Czecho-Slovak Republic 123 

He mused at the great richness not only in 
Bohemia’s real historic past but in her legen- 
dary lore; how everything about the city has 
its story. On the hills towards which he 
was turned, Vlasta, the leader of an Amazon 
band, made her stand in the early days 
against Prince Premysl; near him was the 
tower of Daliborka, where a noble was once 
imprisoned and said to have found solace in 
a violin. Since then ghostly music is said to 
haunt the place. Of the alchemists who lived 
near by in the Street of Gold, a street of 
the tiniest, most brightly-hued houses imagin- 
able, he recalled the strange tales told. In the 
very courts of the palace, legends mingled with 
history. 

A peculiar feeling that he had never experi- 
enced before came over him. To live in Praha, 
he felt, was not the prosaic, everyday life he 
had always known; it was living a brightly 
colored romance too disturbing for him to get 


124 Our Little Czecho-Slovak Cousin 

used to now. His own dear Slovakia, with its 
quiet, simple life, was better for him. 

The next day the new President arrived from 
abroad, and was installed in office. That was 
the greatest day of all in Praha. The feeling 
of the multitude was expressed by one old man 
who said, “ I shall weep no more for my dead, 
since they helped make the fairy tale come true 
that brutal force no longer rules, that a proud, 
deserving nation is freed at last from a bondage 
to which so long the world was indifferent.” 


THE END 


Selections from 
The Page Company’s 
Books for Young People 

THE BLUE BONNET SERIES 

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, 
per volume $1.50 

A TEXAS BLUE BONNET 

By Caroline E. Jacobs. 

“ The book’s heroine, Blue Bonnet, has the very finest 
kind of wholesome, honest, lively girlishness.” — Chicago 
Inter-Ocean. 

BLUE BONNET’S RANCH PARTY 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Edyth Ellerbeck Read 
“ A healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter.” — Boston Transcript. 

BLUE BONNET IN BOSTON; Or, Boardino- 

School Days at Miss North’s. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 

“ It is bound to become popular because of its whole- 
someness and its many human touches.” — Boston Globe. 

BLUE BONNET KEEPS HOUSE; Or, The 

New Home in the East. 

By Caroline E. Jacobs and Lela Horn Richards. 
“It cannot fail to prove fascinating to girls in their 
teens.” — New York Sun. 

BLUE BONNET— DEBUTANTE 

By Lela Horn Richards. 

An interesting picture of the unfolding of life for 
Blue Bonnet 

A— 1 


THE PAGE COMPANY'S 


THE YOUNG PIONEER SERIES 

By Harrison Adams 

Each 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated , per 
volume $1.50 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE OHIO; Or, 

Clearing the Wilderness. 

“ SuGh books as this are an admirable means of stimu- 
lating among the young Americans of to-day interest in 
the story of their pioneer ancestors and the early days of 
the Republic.” — Boston Globe . 

THE PIONEER BOYS ON THE GREAT LAKES ; 

Or, On the Trail of the Iroquois. 

“ The recital of the daring deeds of the frontier is not 
only interesting but instructive as well and shows the 
sterling type of character which these days of self-reliance 
and trial produced.” — American Tourist , Chicago . 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSISSIPPI; 

Or, The Homestead in the Wilderness. 

“The story is told with spirit, and is full of adven- 
ture.” — New York Sun. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE MISSOURI; 

Or, In the Country of the Sioux. 

“ Vivid in style, vigorous in movement, full of dramatic 
situations, true to historic perspective, this story is a 
capital one for boys.” — Watchman Examiner , New York 
City. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE YELLOW- 
STONE; Or, Lost in the Land of Wonders. 
“There is plenty of lively adventure and action and 
the story is well told.” — Duluth Herald, Duluth, Minn. 

THE PIONEER BOYS OF THE COLUMBIA; 

Or, In the Wilderness of the Great Northwest. 

“ The story is full of spirited action and contains much 
valuable historical information.” — Boston h erald . 

A-tf 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


THE HADLEY HALL SERIES 

By Louise M. Breitenbach 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, per 
volume , $1.50 

ALMA AT HADLEY HALL 

“ The author is to be congratulated on having written 
such an appealing book for girls.” — Detroit Free Press . 

ALMA’S SOPHOMORE YEAR 

“ It cannot fail to appeal to the lovers of good things 
in girls’ books.” — Boston Herald . » 

ALMA’S JUNIOR YEAR 

" The diverse characters in the boarding-school are 
Strongly drawn, the incidents are well developed and tha 
action is newer dull.” — The Boston Herald. 

ALMA’S SENIOR YEAR 

“Incident abounds in all of Miss Breitenbach’s stories 
and a healthy, natural atmosphere breathes from every 
chapter.” — Boston Transcript. 


.THE GIRLS OF 
FRIENDLY TERRACE SERIES 

' By Harriet Lummis Smith 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, 
per volume $1.50 

THE GIRLS OF FRIENDLY TERRACE 

“ A book sure to please girl readers, for the author seems 
to understand perfectly the girl character.” — Boston 
Globe. 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S VACATION 

M It is a wholesome, hearty story.” — Utica Observer . 

PEGGY RAYMOND’S SCHOOL DAYS 

The book is delightfully written, and contains lots of exciting 
incidents, 

A— 3 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


FAMOUS LEADERS SERIES 

By Charles H. L. Johnston 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated , per 
volume $2.00 

FAMOUS CAVALRY LEADERS 

“ More of such books should be written, books that 
acquaint young readers with historical personages in a 
pleasant, informal way.” — New York Sun. 

“ It i 3 a book that will stir the heart of every boy and 
will prove interesting as well to the adults.” — Lawrence 
Daily World. 

FAMOUS INDIAN CHIEFS 

“ Mr. Johnston has done faithful work in this volume, 
and his relation of battles, sieges and struggles of these 
famous Indians with the whites for the possession of 
America is a worthy addition to United States History.” 
— New York Marine Journal. 

FAMOUS SCOUTS 

“ It is the kind of a book that will have a great fascina- 
tion for boys and young men, and while it entertains them 
it will also present valuable information in regard to 
those who have left their impress upon the history of the 
country.” — The New London Day. 

FAMOUS PRIVATEERSMEN AND ADVEN- 
TURERS OF THE SEA 

“ The tales are more than merely interesting; they are 
entrancing, stirring the blood with thrilling force and 
bringing new zest to the never-ending interest in the 
dramas of the sea.” — The Pittsburgh Post. 

FAMOUS FRONTIERSMEN AND HEROES 
OF THE BORDER 

“ The accounts are not only authentic, but distinctly 
readable, making a book of wide appeal to all who love 
the history of actual adventure.” — Cleveland Leader. 

FAMOUS DISCOVERERS AND EXPLORERS 
OF AMERICA 

“The book is an epitome of some of the wildest and 
bravest adventures of which the world has known and of 
discoveries which have changed the face of the old world 
as well as of the new.” — Brooklyn Daily Eagle . 


"BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


HILDEGARDE - MARGARET SERIES 

By Laura E. Richards 
Eleven Volumes 

The Hildegarde-Margaret Series, beginning with 
“ Queen Hildegarde ” and ending with “ The Merry- 
weathers,” make one of the best and most popular series 
of books for girls ever written. 

Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, 
per volume . . . . . . . $1.50 

The eleven volumes boxed as a set . . . $lel.50 

LIST OF TITLES 

QUEEN HILDEGARDE 

HILDEGARDE ’S HOLIDAY 

HXLDEGARBE’S HOME 

HILDE GARDE ’ S NEIGHBORS 

HILDEGARDE ’S HARVEST 

THREE MARGARETS 

MARGARET MONTFORT 

PEGGY 

RITA 

FERNLEY HOUSE 

THE MERRYWEATHERS 
A— S 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


THE CAPTAIN JANUARY SERIES 

By Laura E. Richards 

Each one volume, 12mo, cloth decorative, illus- 
trated, 'per volume 15 cents 

CAPTAIN JANUARY 

A charming idyl of New England coast life, whose 
success has been very remarkable. 

SAME. Illustrated Holiday Edition . . $1.35 

MELODY: The Story of a Child. 

MARIE 

A companion to “Melody” and ‘Captain January.” 

ROSIN THE BEAU 

A sequel to “Melody” and “Marie.” 

SNOW-WHITE; Or, The House in the Wood. 

JIM OF HELLAS; Or, In Durance Vile, and a 
companion story, Bethesda Pool. 

NARCISSA 

And a companion story, In Verona, being two delight- 
ful short stories of New England life. 

“ SOME SAY ” 

And a companion story. Neighbors in Cyrus. 

NAUTILUS 

“ ‘ Nautilus ’ is by far the best product of the author’s 
powers, and is certain to achieve the wide success it so 
richly merits.” 

ISLA HERON 

This interesting story is written in the author’s usual 
charming manner. 

THE LITTLE MASTER 

“ A well told, interesting tale of a high character.” — 
California Gateway Gazette . 

A — 6 


BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 


DELIGHTFUL BOOKS FOR LITTLE 
FOLKS 

By Laura E. Richards 

THREE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, 12mo, with eight plates in full color 
and many text illustrations .... $1.50 

“ Little ones will understand and delight in the stories 
and poems.” — Indianapolis News. 

FIVE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.50 
A charming collection of short stories and clever poems 
for children. 

MORE FIVE MINUTE STORIES 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.50 

A noteworthy collection of short stories and poems 
for children, which will prove as popular with mothers 
as with boys and girls. 

FIVE MICE IN A MOUSE TRAP 

Cloth decorative, square 12mo, illustrated . $1.50 

The story of their lives and other wonderful tilings 
related by the Man in the Moon, done in the vernacular 
from the lunacular form by Laura E. Richards. 

POLLYANNA ANNUAL NO. i 

Trade Mark 

The Yearly GLAD Book. 

Trade ' "“Mark 
Edited by Florence Orville. 

Large octavo, with nearly 200 illustrations, 12 in full 
color, bound with an all-over pictorial cover design in 
colors, with fancy printed end papers. $2.00 

“ The contents of this splendid volume are evidently 
intended to demonstrate the fact that work is as good 
a glad game as play if gone about the right way. There 
are clever little drawings any one could imitate, and in 
imitating learn something. There are adventurous tales, 
fairy tales, scientific tales, comic stories and serious 
stories in verse and prose.” — Montreal Herald and Star. 
A— 7 


THE PAGE COMPANY’S 


THE BOYS’ STORY OF THE 
RAILROAD SERIES 

By Burton E. Stevenson 
Each large 12mo, cloth decorative , illustrated, 
per volume ....... $1.65 

THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND; Or, The Ad- 
ventures or Aldan West. 

“ The whole range of section railroading is covered in 
the story.” — Chicago Post. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN DISPATCHER 

“ A vivacious account of the varied and often hazard- 
ous nature of railroad life.” — Conqregationalist. 

THE YOUNG TRAIN MASTER 

“ It is a book that can be unreservedly commended to 
anyone who loves a good, wholesome, thrilling, informing 
yarn.” — Passaic News. 

THE YOUNG APPRENTICE ; Or, Allan West’s 

Chum. 

“The story is intensely interesting.” — Baltimore Sun. 

STORIES BY 
BREWER CORCORAN 

Each, one volume, 12mo, cloth decorative, illus- 
trated, per volume ...... $1.65 

THE BOY SCOUTS OF KENDALLVILLE 

Published with the approval of “ The Boy Scouts of 
America .** 

The story of a bright young factory worker who can- 
not enlist because he has three dependents, but his 
knowledge of woodcraft and wig-wagging gained through 
Scout practice enables him to foil a German plot to blow 
up the munitions factory. 

THE BARBARIAN ; Or, Will Bradford’s School 
Days at St. Jo’s. 

“This is a splendid story of friendship, study and 
sport, winding up with a perfectly corking double play.” 
— Springfield Union. 

A-~S 






















f 





















I 

























